#if you like this- please tell your friends... your discord server... your mom (kidding)

[sheepwithspecs]

Preview: After Midnight

This is a little taste of something I've been working on for a long time! I'm so excited that I can finally start sharing pieces of it with everyone 😊 I was recently approached by a reader who asked if I would be willing to write Arenvald x Fordola content. What seemed like a fun writing exercise has since become an entire series of oneshots! While these mostly surround Fordola and her journey of self-discovery + finding a place in the world following the events of Stormblood, there will also be a heavy romance element (forewarned). In addition, please expect spoilers for Stormblood - Endwalker expansions. Although it's not required to understand, I'd also suggest reading the two side stories "The First Step" and "Set with the Sun". You can find them on the Lodestone! Please enjoy this small preview! I hope it whets your appetite for the completed product!

Have the stars always been so… calming?

Seated at the latticed window, Fordola lifts her eyes to the twinkling expanse that stretches from horizon to horizon above the sleeping Ala Mhigo. While she has never been one for idle stargazing, endless weeks in a dark dungeon cell have quickly changed her opinion on the night sky. She’d been unable to sleep at all her first night free, finding it near impossible to take her fill of the peaceful heavens, the gentle face of the moon, the wispy clouds breaking apart as they drifted over the city walls to parts unknown….

The window—alongside the bedchamber that contains it—is one of the few things she enjoys most about her newfound independence. Privileges, they’re called, for services rendered. Recently she’s been allowed a room of her own near the palace barracks, complete with barebone furnishings and a guard stationed outside the door at all times. She has a stipend now, a meager amount totaling less than half the pay of a common foot soldier. They’d even agreed to remove the enchanted choker from her neck.

Of course, Fordola is all too aware that this tactic is one more way for them to leverage power over the conscripts… over her. At the slightest provocation, they can just as easily strip her of these so-called privileges and send her back to that miserable cell. The message is clear: only good little girls get treats. But it’s better than nothing, and it won’t be forever. One day they will have no choice but to set her free. She will be her own woman again.

Until that day, it’s better to bite her tongue, bow her head, and accept the few creature comforts allotted by her captors. A window of her own, a cot that doesn’t reek of piss and moldering hay, the illusion of privacy. Three square meals, a roof over her head. Distrust at best, hatred at worst. No citizenship, no rights, an extra crust of bread that serves as the occasional kindness.

In all fairness, service to Ala Mhigo is not very different than service to Garlemald.    

In the past, she might have balked at the idea of a life like the one she now led. The hangman’s noose would have seemed infinitely preferable to kneeling at the feet of those who’d murdered her father. But despite her pain, her crimes, her failures… despite their much-deserved hatred of her… she does not want to die. Not now.

Though she loathes to admit it, M’naago is right: a lifetime of atonement stretches before her, ready for the taking. It’s a burden she gladly accepts. The people of Ala Mhigo, the Silver Griffins, the former Skulls and their families—together, they have the potential to become something far greater than the sum of their parts. A distant goal, to be sure, barely visible over the farthest horizon. But it’s something to strive towards. It’s the sort of Ala Mhigo that Yda would have wanted.

Live, Fordola. Find some hope to hold on to. It had taken years, but she finally understands what Yda meant. You had to have hope in something; that was the only thing that made life worth the endless struggle. For so long, her own hopes had been entangled with her allegiance to the Empire: citizenship, a better quality of life, the safety of her loved ones. Empty promises, all of them, serving to placate rather than inspire change. Perhaps some of the soldiers had believed them; she certainly had, even when the truth stared her in the face.

Now, though… does she even have the right to hope? To dream of a brighter future for herself? If there’s any hope left in her, it lies in those she chooses to fight for. Chin pillowed in her hand, she lets her eyes drift closed as their faces parade through her mind. Her mother, for one. Would she be happy to know her daughter lives? Or would she shun her as a traitor to the Empire? Then there’s Hrudolf, who miraculously survived Specula Imperatoris and, gods-knew, deserved a proper apology for… for everything.

The children of Ala Gannha, too young to inherit their parents’ fear and prejudice, who begged her tarry by the riverside on her rare trips to the settlement.

The few guards who treated her with basic human decency, if not kindness.

Arenvald—

A perfunctory knock at the door is enough to pull Fordola from her musings. She turns from the window in time to see the door flung open on its hinges, nearly smacking the opposite wall before bouncing back with a rusty scrape of iron against flagstone. The intrusion isn’t surprising; by their nature, the guards cannot offer any true privacy. Still, most were willing to wait for an answer before barging into her chambers.

“Lupis.” It’s H’sutyo, one of the thaumaturges that often accompany the primal regiment on missions. Until recently, their job—alongside providing defense for the arcanists—had been to keep one eye on her at all times, ready to activate the enchanted choker at the first sign of dissent. Now many of them, including H’sutyo, worked as blasphemy hunters. She waits patiently for the Miqo’te to speak, one hand still resting on the windowsill.

“It’s Arenvald, the stubborn fool,” she announces brusquely, ears flattened in clear annoyance. “Make yourself useful and go talk some sense into him.”

“Don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” Fordola replies in much the same tone. In the short time she’s known Arenvald, it’s quickly become clear that the man is obstinate to a fault. Once he puts his mind to something—befriending a surly prisoner in a dungeon cell, for example—it will take nothing short of a Calamity to stop him. “He’s a grown man. If he wants to be stubborn, I say let him.”

“Oh, come off it!” H’sutyo snaps. “You’re the only one he listens to, aside from Commander Aldynn, and I’m not about to risk my neck bothering him at this time of night. Besides, he’ll bend over backwards to please you. Anyone with half a brain can tell the lad’s sweet on you.”

Sweet—? What’s that supposed to mean? Brushing the errant thought aside, Fordola reluctantly stands. It seems her admiration of the night sky will have to wait.

“What’s the problem, then? He ought to be asleep by now.” As should I, she admits ruefully. The midnight bell has already sounded. Mornings come early, at this time of year, and she is in no position to be caught sleeping on the job.

“Ought to be,” H’sutyo agrees. “It’s his legs, though. The chirugeons whipped up a tonic for the pain, but he refuses to even glance at it.”

“But what am I supposed to—”

“Listen, I don’t care if you have to force the godsdamned thing down his throat! Just see to it that he drinks it, then get your arse back here before anyone finds out,” she huffs. “So long as you’re back before fifth bell, there shouldn’t be a problem. Magnus agreed to swap duties for the evening, so I’ll be standing guard here until dawn.”

“And if I’m discovered? What then?”

“Tell the truth and hope for the best. Or pray, if that’s more your style.” H’sutyo lifts her shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “Still, a few meandering guards in the dead of night shouldn’t be much of a match for the Butcher eh? Not much of a Skull if you’re caught that easily.”

“Hmph.” Part of her wonders if this might be some sort of convoluted trap, some insidious design to knock her off her feet and watch as she tumbles back down to rock bottom. No more bedchamber, no more window. She can almost feel the crushing weight of that accursed collar, tight around her throat.

Then again, this is no ordinary, run-of-the-mill Resistance guard. This is H’sutyo. In her care, her status as a prisoner never seemed to matter; she’d always been treated with the same offhand disdain shown to everyone else. It’s grounding, freeing, in the sense that she never has to wonder what to expect. The tip of the woman’s striped tail flicks back and forth with impatience, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as Fordola fastens her sandals.

“Can’t you move any faster?”

“Tch!” You should be thanking me for doing this in the first place, she thinks, briefly wondering if she ought to get properly dressed. It’s probably not the best idea to be padding down the palace corridors in her nightclothes; it’ll be twice as humiliating for her if she does manage to get caught by the patrols. She decides against changing almost as quickly, if only for H’sutyo’s thinning patience. Not that I have much say in the matter.

Even as she thinks the words, she knows them to be untrue. She would have gone to him regardless, simply because it’s Arenvald. Because she’s partly to blame for his current predicament. Because, despite everything, he is her friend. Her big, handsome, headstrong friend with a heart of gold and a smile bright enough to light the Void. Who’s apparently sweet on her… whatever that means.

She ignores the way her heart quickens a little at the thought with practiced ease; at this point, pushing aside her emotions has become something habitual, almost instinctive. Sweeping past H’sutyo, she stands in the corridor and watches as the door to her bedchamber is locked tightly. H’sutyo stations herself in front of the threshold, cold eyes glaring out from beneath the griffin’s beak on her hood.

“Fifth bell,” she grunts, and falls silent. Her eyes slide away lazily, focusing instead on a patch of plaster just above Fordola’s head.

Once again, the message rings clear: she is dismissed.

[worldsbiggestnerd101]

intro post!!

hi there! my name’s emmy, welcome to my blog! i’ve been here for a good while now but since i’ve started to gain more attention, i figured it was time to make an intro post!

basic info:

name(s): em/emmy/emeline, angie/angel (no preference)

age: minor (NO NSFW BULLSHIT PLEASE)

birthday: january 4 :D

orientation/sexuality: bisexual (femme/wlw leaning)

gender: cis girl

pronouns: she/her (they/them is ok but not preferred)

nationality: born and raised in the US of A (new york babyyyyyyy), but my parents are guyanese, so i’d say guyanese american

race: mixed, my mom has light skin (she gets mistaken as hispanic a lot) and my dad has medium brown skin so i’m somewhere in the middle (i too get mistaken for hispanic a lot)

other info: i’m neurodivergent, possibly autism or adhd (or both) but i was a “gifted” kid if that counts for anything, oh and i have anxiety

fandoms:

this a multifandom blog, so while i do have my phases/eras/hyperfixations, i will be posting about multiple fandoms at once, even if one’s taking up more posts than the others combined.

here are some of my mains!

roblox piggy

murder drones

hazbin hotel + helluva boss

gravity falls

ride the cyclone

welcome home

it’s easiest to tell what my current main hyperfixation is by just looking at my pfp/blog theme, as i’ll usually set it to something related to my current biggest hyperfix. i’ll update this list as needed, but i’m also active in the percy jackson, american girl, and stranger things fandoms. i’m also into a lot of cartoons, like she-ra and the princesses of power, steven universe, the owl house, carmen sandiego, mlp gen 4, etc. so feel free to ask about those! i’m also a major theater kid, some of my favorite shows are hamilton, dear evan hansen, wicked, mean girls, beetlejuice, and six, so you can ask about any of those too! (i’ve only seen wicked and hamilton 😭)

links

ok so all my links to other posts or blogs or accounts or anything really are here!!

youtube: here!!

hazbin hotel high school au masterpost: here!!

discord server bullshittery masterpost: here >:3

tags

#em rambles - original post tag

#asks - any and all asks i get!!

#mutuals - any asks from/posts about my mutuals will be tagged with this, and it's like a guarantee that you'll get your own name tag too!!

#anon - if you send me an anon ask, just look here to find it :D

#emmy’s edits - all my original edits!! they’re up on my youtube too but you can find them here under that tag

#hazbin high school au - my own au!! i made this by myself with a few ideas from friends but this is like my own creation that i'm working on!!

EDIT: AS OF 07/06/2024, ANYTHING RELATING TO HELLUVA BOSS S2E9 APOLOGY TOUR WILL NOT BE TAGGED AS SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE EPISODE I ADVISE AGAINST SCROLLING.

edit: as of 07/16/2024 i have a girlfriend!! her name is hannie, aka the wonderful amazing absolutely adorable @furryrainbowscreature i love her so much <333

dni:

homophobes, transphobes

supporters of israel

queer exclusionists (anti "conflicting" labels, terfs, etc)

racists

blogs with heavy amounts of nsfw content (i’m a teenager so. please.)

sexists/misogynists

pedos/“maps”

so yeah i think that’s about it!! thanks for reading y'all <3

also: FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

[trans-advice]

Hi, I’m not trans myself but I have a trans friend who’s in a situation.

Warning for Suicide mentions and depression

I’m gonna use they/them for them even though those aren’t their pronouns because, well, you’ll see.

So I’ve know them for about 6 years now and they’re a few years older than me. In January of this year they came out to me and some other friends as a trans girl. They’ve apparently known they were trans for a good long while and were only out to close friends.

It became clear that they had depression when they had several venting sessions in discord servers that turned into talking them down from suicide and or self harm.

The friend group they came out to me through kinda fell apart which was definitely stressful for them and me and everyone involved but they’re the one I was life/death worried about.

I also found out that their mom is supportive but their dad isn’t. Well recently they let me and other friends know that if they go forward with transitioning (theyre 18 now) their dad will leave.

They’ve decided to “not be trans” so as to not split up their family. No transition, not socially or medically. They said “[chosen name] is dead” , they’re just gonna be their deadname now. They said they’ve masked for 18 years, they can keep going. Obviously I don’t want this for them because I want them to be happy but they don’t think they deserve to be happy.

But logistically I don’t know what to tell them. They don’t want their dad to leave because he’s still their dad and their mom would be unhappy and I just don’t know what to tell them.

The unsupportive ness of their dad is obviously a sizable contributor to their depression and suicidal thoughts. I don’t want to talk them out of suicide again. I want them to not have to be talked out of it because I want them to not even consider it. It’s taking a toll on me and I’m not a professional, I’m just a kid.

Advice? Please?

To my friend if they’re reading this because it will be obvious I’m talking about them: Hi! I hope you don’t mind I sent this. <3

Call trans lifeline: they're more trained they don't call the cops on anyone, and we're not professionals here either.

Seek help from someone trained in dealing with domestic violence! Your friend is an abusive family & needs an escape plan. -- Transition can wait, they need to get out & or distance for their safety, they are in danger. (Especially considering how the political situation is developing.)

They're in an abusive family. I obviously don't know everything, but my suggestion is that if your friend is able to get out of the house away from their family, then do that as much as possible because having autonomy will obviously support bodily autonomy.

When I mention resources for adults, my hope is that it will click that life goes on, and recovery from abusive families is something that is ongoing into adulthood. I'm hoping they & you survive into adulthood. AA & al-anon tend to be carceral with philosophies of "rock bottom" involving "white coats, blue coats, black coats", but still.

Like the reality of potential of divorce happening doesn't just happen due to what your describing. Like there's probably a bunch of other built up things, and it's going to become a "stepping on eggshells" situation. -- The other factor with divorce that needs to be looked out for is property since divorce procedures are also about divvying up the property held by the couple. Of course, couples can stay married but separate because they can't afford to divorce, but like, I feel like that might help with some grounding.

Parent is a verb/role not a noun/body. "Love is an action, not simply a feeling." -- bell hooks. If the father's abusive then he's an abuser instead of a father. There might need to be grief over losing their father, but the father is already lost as of now, it's just a matter of whether the father comes back (as in stops being an abuser, makes amends, etc) or dies abusive. Look up familial rejection, look up resources for adult children of abusive parents etc.

Grief is the feeling one has when the brain's mental maps (such as knowing where access to supportive people such as a father), has to adapt to something no longer being there. Grieving is feeling you have with that. Grief will always be there. Grieving can become "less" with time because you learn how to better adapt to that stress.

Transition is separate from gender identity. Basically your friend is grieving over their father. -- The problem to this whole reasoning of going back in the closet/grave (which I once had to reckon with the fact that I had basically buried my inner children, and it was brutal)... is that the father's body is still above ground & free, & he's abusive, and a threat to your friend's & your friend's family's safety. The rest of the family would still be in danger regardless.

So my advice, in general, would be for your friend to get out of that abusive family, live somewhere else, etc, as much as possible.

Y'all are kids, I hope y'all survive childhood, and if any of y'all get further harmed I want y'all to remember that: the harm was not self-inflicted, that the adults around y'all hurt y'all.

Since y'all are kids y'all also qualify for the Trevor project, but be careful with them because all 988 providers will call the cops if "imminent harm" is believed to be near.

Good Luck, Peace & Love,

Eve

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[phoenixyfriend]

The “Momma Sturmvoraus was Literally Satan” AU

As requested by @spazzbot​. This AU was initially brainstormed on the GG fanworks server almost a year ago. Specifically, on the first day of 2020.

[ID: a truncated discord message by “Miss Nixy, Gay for RoboLadies” posted 01/01/2020. The message reads “I need to sleep but please for the moment consider:” and ends there.]

So. Let’s get to it.

Satan took a human form because why not see what's going on topside, live like a human, and “Oh shit is this pregnancy? This is pregnancy. Fuck, that's a tiny human. Which is now half demon. Am I supposed to take care it? Wonder if retconing this form into that Valois family was a bad idea. They do have SO much money though, I get to live like a queen. I suppose another child shouldn't hurt, it wasn't that bad. Oh, he's cute, this is actually making sense, why humans do all the sinning. Not counting dear Aaronev's murders, of course, those are just evil, but I did search out the worst of the humans to pair myself to...”

This is literally just "Tarvek and Anevka's mom was low-key Satan on a bored “let's be human for a decade or two to see what happens” jaunt, consequences happen because these kids are LITERALLY half-demon and arguably anti-Christs."

Also it's just Very Funny for Tarvek, ineffectual sexy lamp fashion twunk extraordinaire, to be an antichrist

Jeff thinks he’s pretty. Jeff keeps describing features that don’t entirely make sense. (Jeff’s canon name is Karl Thotep but they spent so long unnamed that the server collectively named them Jeff.)

This is not a crossover with anything, btw. Ambiguously Pop Culture Satan just got bored and went to have babies with a serial killer.

They’re just kids! That are vaguely demonic. So. Moreso than the rest of the Valois.

Sometimes "mom" comes back from the dead and visits Anevka and Tarvek to impart Wisdom and possibly magic lessons The rooms always smell faintly of sulfur after that...

They try to put Anevka in the machine but SHE isn't hurt and the MACHINE just melts

So that's the end of that.

It's very awkward for everyone, but the paperwork isn't too bad. It's very easy to write "incidental fire began during late-fugue experimentation, resulted in fire spreading through six rooms and several casualties, including Prince Aaronev Wilhelm Sturmvoraus."

As per @atagotiak​, “I feel like if we’re going in any way dimensional weirdness with thing, Tarvek got so good at exploring bc he could just clip through walls.”

With image provided by @thisarenotarealblog​:

Tarvek in Paris: My dead mother keeps showing up in my dreams to tell me I need to seduce my way out of my problems and also she looks like Satan. Tarvek's Voltaire-Appointed Therapist: I still don't know what that means. Just like the last five times. Tarvek: I keep telling her that I can’t seduce Colette, if seduction is that important she should get Anevka to do it.

Like he probably wouldn’t say most of that in front of any Voltaire-approved individual, but still.

Tarvek is still very good at self control but there's a Special Edge to his rants.

(Derailed in the moment to me thinking about Anevka in a sfw-but-concerningly-deadly succubus getup, because... yeah.)

Aaronev dies and goes to hell and his dead wife is just there like "hi! Time to be tortured for eternity!" He wasn't a good husband so. He can't exactly sentimentalize his way out.

“In the sexy way?” “... not for you, no.”

Mostly I just want the BULLSHIT that is "Storm Mom was actually just Satan getting bored and going on vacation as a retconned Valois girl, the kids are half-demons and sometimes it Shows."

To clarify: the Satan bit isn't the retcon. Grandma used to have one daughter. Now there are two. (Seffie and Martellus's mother doesn't remember being an only child, but sometimes...)

Satan retconned a new daughter in, which included a Valid Valois Venusian Vestment, so the blood tests play out.

The subtle signs of wrongness would be fun too. Anevka tends to smile a bit too wide and sharp for a human face. Inexplicable uneasiness, here you can’t point at any specific thing that’s wrong but it’s uncomfortable. Uncanny valley prettiness, almost like the porcelain she became in other timelines. Skin isn’t supposed to be that smooth.

My brain's pre-nap contribution at that point was "Satan's pronouns when not pretending to Human are sin/sinself" which is! Certainly a thing.

Tarvek, at some nebulous future point: I mean, your ancestors were monsters, but my dad was a serial killer and my mom was literally Satan, instead of just figuratively like Lucrezia, so. I mean. I kind of get what you're going through.

Per @firebirdeternal: Tarvek and Anevka growing up with "you're allergic to holy water" and not questioning it until a little later because What.

And then they test it and it's like "yeah, no, there's a rash now. That stung. What the fuck."

It INFURIATES Gil in Paris when Tarvek tells him that's a thing, because there's nothing chemically different about Holy water and regular water. But no, this is somehow happening.

It gets logged in medical journals as a Valois genetic thing because, well, Mom was like that too, right?

One time they both go into a church for an Adventure and Gil is very annoyed to find that Tarvek is like. Faintly smoking. It smells like burnt hair in here.

Gil: What smells like burnt hairgel? Tarvek: [glares]

Gil decides that it must be something particular to the church, like a fungus or something in the stone, contaminating the air and water so it only LOOKS like the holiness is what's setting off reactions.

It is not.

Tarvek once got into an argument with someone and ate a slab of raw, completely uncooked meat as a power move.

SVV seems to work perfectly. Everyone is fine. We get the ‘you fight like ducks’ moment.

And then Tarvek bursts into flames, and everyone panics because no they fixed this what the fuck is he still infected with Hogfarb’s oh my god... and then everything settles down and he's perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him, no longer turning funny colors. Completely unharmed. He's in a nicely tailored suit and looks faintly stunned

"I just met my dead mom, who's apparently Satan. She told me that after I died the first time just now, I should be harder to kill later, especially with fire, because now there's more demon and less mortal and guys I think I'm going crazy." "Is that a martini?" Tarvek looks down. "Apparently."

Tarvek starts just. Randomly setting things on fire by glaring too hard and has to tone it down. Meanwhile, Agatha and Gil are having crises about how he's somehow getting PRETTIER.

Is he faintly glowing? Maybe!

Gil handles it by angrily sniping at Tarvek about how of COURSE he's an evil little rat with a background like that.

Tarvek just wants a nap and to forget this ever happened. Many people are sworn to secrecy. It's very awkward.

Still, SVV did something, for handwave-y reasons, and so they're linked now. Gil and Agatha both getting tiny flashes of the same shenanigans.

They get none of the powers. They just keep getting Weird Shit.

Other characters with divine influence are like "Did you.... did you make a pact with a demon?" "What no that's our boyfriend."

Tho tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if a Heterodyne did sign a contract with a demon at some point in exchange for like. Materials. A hundred souls sacrificed in exchange for some succubus blood. Thanks!

Tarvek and Othar: Falling out of CW as in canon. Tarvek: WHAT THE HELL SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE WINGS HIDE THIS BEFORE I GET BOOTED FROM THE LINE FOR THE THRONE

IDK where Anevka is during all this. I think she might have decided to go sleep her way through the courts of the Ice Tsars. Vacation, y'know?

Othar after he's decided to make Tarvek his new Heroic Apprentice: AH, my poor afflicted young friend, it's noble of you to go against the dark nature of your tragic heritage like this. Tarvek: I hate you. I wish I could hate you to death. But you have a point. I shouldn't let my father's blood limit what I strive for in life. Othar: I... I thought your mother was... Tarvek: I know what I said.

Tarvek: Also you can't tell ANYONE about that, I can't have them thinking I'm not actually in line for the Storm King's throne.

He does admittedly have to like. Explain things to Grandma.

Terabithia is Tarvek’s maternal grandmother so this is supremely awkward. That said...

Grandma fondly remembers her pregnancy cravings; bone marrow and sulfur.

"Yeah so, my mother, your daughter, was... maybe actually Satan? But retconned into your life?" "Tarvek, darling, please. I figured that out half a century ago."

TARVEK ACCIDENTALLY FINDS HIM HIMSELF WEIRDLY INTENSE AT CONTRACTS

I mean that honestly just Tracks about Tarvek anyways? But like moreso.

He just. Writes something up and there's things getting signed or shook on and then the person tries to break the contract and either suddenly catch fire or are deeply unlucky for a set amount of time.

And Tarvek's just standing there like "how in the FUCK did I do that?"

Severity of infernal punishment depends on the severity of the breach of contract.

Tarvek finds out that Anevka's been convincing rich people to sign their souls over to her. It's a fun challenge. She keeps them in jars.

They can still remotely pilot their bodies but like. They can't TELL anyone what happened.

Satan: I'm going to go make babies and now everyone else has to deal with the consequences.

Anevka's living up to that whole "princess of hell" vibe. Tarvek's just like "nope nope nope I want the storm throne, not the hell throne, BYE MOM."

Satan's just feeling sinself down in hell like "awwww look at my babies go, aren't they adorable?"

Tarvek: Anevka, what... first off, how did you figure it out? Anevka: Well, I temporarily died when father put me in the machine, and... I can't say that hell kicked me out because they were afraid I'd take over, but mother DID say she'd rather I play about with human governments instead of Hell's. Tarvek: Okay, cool cool cool. What after you planning to DO with all these souls? Anevka: They make for some lovely reading lamps, don't they?

(Anevka absolutely sets herself the goal of acquiring new titles that rival her old ones, or even surpass them. She just black widows her way through Europa.)

I just want someone (probably Snackleford) to ascend, take one look at Tarvek, and run SCREAMING.

Tarvek still needed to be anchored to Higgs, because Tarvek is Baby.

Gil is eventually in a relationship with an Eternal God Queen and the Literal Son of Satan.

Family dinners can include ALL the in-laws if you duck down to hell! - You borrow Bill from... probably heaven, maybe purgatory. - You have Lu and Aaronev and Satan already there, though the first two... well. Aaronev and Lu get invited to dinner but they have to eat by themselves at the kiddy table and nobody talks to them or acknowledges their presence. After all, this is hell, and what better punishment for Lu than to be completely ignored, and for Aaronev to see Lu at her worst and be reminded that he gave everything for this horrible, horrible person who isn't even pretending to care about him anymore. - Zanta and Klaus get invited via portal. - Anevka saunters in with a blood-soaked dress and a complaint about militant demon-hunters refusing to let her go shopping for a new pair of shoes. - Zeetha tagged along with the OT3. (She can't wait to see this situation explode.)

Oh God, Satan is actually second place as far as good parenting goes.

Well, actually, fourth. Because Adam and Lilith. But second as far as bio parents go. 1. Zanta 2. Satan 3. Klaus 4/5. Lu and Aaronev N/A. Bill

Someone (Anevka) decides to stir the pot and invites Von Pinn, Terabithia, Bang.

Bang is basically Gil’s older sister, right? Right.

This is Zanta meeting Bang for the first time! Zanta is just: "It's so nice to meet my husband's adopted daughter." Klaus freezes. Bang freezes. Gil is the only one who is just. "Yeah." Meanwhile Zeetha is crying with laughter off to the side because both of them deserve this. (Zanta would legit love Bang though.)

Agatha: Tarvek, I think DuPree is-- Tarvek: Hitting on my sister? I know. Agatha: On your mom, actually. Tarvek: NO!

Also I do love the idea of like. Nobody tells Bang they're inviting her. She just wakes up in Hell like. "Ah. Yes. Fair enough."

Satan: Oh no no no my dear, you're here as a guest. Besides as well as you'd fit you're not one of mine, you've got other things waiting for you. Bang: Okay, but I love the decor. And is that Cheesecake?

Bang’s family has their own evil god in the novels, but! Bang DID pick on Tarvek a lot in Paris. Satan cares more than Anevka does. Bang might get the sexy punishment.

I feel like the fact that no permanent damage was done and it taught Tarvek a lot of things means Satan isn't gonna be all that upset about it.

And let's be real, if there's a character in GG who could look the literal Christian devil in the eye and be like "Yeah I tortured your kid, what're you going to do about it?" it's Bang.

Even Satan doesn't know what to do or think about Othar.

He sure is here! As Anevka’s arm candy! Nobody knows what to do except Anevka herself, who just wants to be Smug.

(What's that scene from Phineas and Ferb that's the mad scientist trapping the platypus within the rules of polite dining at a fine restaurant? Like he can't make a scene because that would be rude?) (That. Othar would dearly love to start a fight, but it's a Family Dinner. You're only allowed to fight verbally at those.)

(Othar isn't even fighting Satan, he just wants to argue with Klaus.) (And maybe fanboy in Bill's direction a bit).

[inkist]

Some info on your Amphibia OC, Van, please?

Can do!

I'm v tired, and I don't do a lot with Van so he's a lil underdeveloped compared to my other ocs, so things may change if I have reason to use him and develop him more. but here's what I have for him on my discord server:

more disco ramblings

human

emo fucker, cool kid

trans dude

like 14 during show canon, but in my mind, he won't really make an appearance until after canon so like when he's 17ish and anne's 16 but shhhhh that doesn't matter rn

he/they

Demiromantic

deadname: vanessa

name: van

ends up dating anne and they’re a power couple as fuck

because i s2g as much as i love anne x sasha x marcy that shit is toxic

Van is tall ™

Van has pet frogs.

Because I can lol

He has poison dart frogs

And he is v fascinated by sprig lowkey because dude wtf

Anne tells him about amphibia and he kinda just takes it in stride

And like Anne’s like “I know I sound crazy”

And he shrugs and “I mean, even if you made all of that up, which like no idea how you could but if you did— that doesn’t change the fact that you feel like it happened. Either way, you’re still dealing with the effects of it and that sucks. And like I’m not gonna tell you to not feel hurt or upset about something because like feelings are weird and stuff…” and he trails off before opening his arms and “I can however over hugs and cuddles and as many kisses as you want.”

And van never dismisses Anne’s feelings but he’s never quite 100% on if amphibia was real or fake or what until he meets human sized talking frogs or sees the videos Anne took in amphibia then he believes her even more and tries to comfort her even more. like he just wants to take care of her but also support her in all that she does lmao

So Van has 2 moms and 2 sisters. He’s the middle child lmao

my idea is that both the sisters are super super girly. i mean regina george lookin.

pink, pink, pink. skirts, heels, glitter, pastels. etc etc

one is dirty blonde leaning brunette, the other has black hair. because ~van doesnt dye his hair~

the eldest looked up how to do emo/scene/goth make up looks to help van learn how to do his make up

the youngest sees things that are black / skulls and takes photos and sends them to van with ‘this made me think of u’

The sisters will sit on the couch with van in the middle, and watch him play a video game

the youngest: “can’t you make friends with them?”

“no, they’re the enemy.”

“yeah, but like, you’re killing them! can’t you-”

“Not how the game works.”

“Well it should be”

“Then you should make a game.”

“maybe i will.”

And now the youngest wants to become a video game designer simply to make a game where you’re supposed to befriend enemies instead of kill them

the eldest just sat there, looking up secrets about the video game so they could make fun of things that van missed.

Both moms are also very ‘normal’ and they’re both lipstick lesbians lmao

and they both just smile and pat van’s head and hand him a new black skull shirt

they be cool moms

the whole family sees van’s gothic nature and goes ‘how can we help?’

also van’s been out since he was like in 2nd grade

its never been a question, and his family had no issue

and they started calling him 'van’ cause he didnt like his deadname

and it kinda just stuck

theyre v healthy !!

i think i mentioned it but van also has pet poison dart frogs

hes v attached to them lmao

van is v thrown off when he sees sprig tho because jesus christ giant poison frog

[willddheartt]

24 Days | Wilbur Soot

30 days to fall in love with someone? Sounds easy right? It would be if that person wasn’t so unbelievably annoying in almost every sense.

You’re not sure how you found yourself in this situation, but you were positive there was no backing out now…

Series Warnings: Mostly fluff and angst, and a very poorly constructed enemies to lovers plot.

Word Count: 1685

Masterlist Series Masterlist

24 Days

It was Friday, you were in the middle of doing your two-hour-long stream that you did every Friday. Since you took weekends off from your own streams you did a long one every week. It worked out, you seemed to get a lot more views on Friday anyways.  All the donos seemed to ask about you and Wilbur, you forced a smile to tell everyone you guys were well and that you’re very happy together. The viewers seemed to be happy with your responses and didn't catch you falter.  You were on the DreamSMP cleaning up things and repairing things from any creeper explosions, as having holes in the walkways annoyed you to no end because it didn't look pleasing to the eye. Many ties you were passed by Fundy, Tubbo, and even Tommy.  The in-game chat stated to be spammed by Tommy, VC 2 VC 2 VC 2 over and over again. 

“Well chat, let’s see what Tommy wants,” You giggled and switched to discord.  “Hello Tommy,” You smiled, wondering what type of shenanigans he was up to today, you noticed he was also streaming so you knew it was something that was going to be very entertaining to the stream.  “Y/N!” He yelled  “Tommy!” You yelled back, matching his energy.  “How do you do?” His sudden calm tone almost made you burst into a fit of laughter.  “I do well, Thomas. What are you up to tonight?” You asked, smiling to yourself when using his full name.  “Well, you see, Y/N. See here’s the thing. I am out of supplies, I don’t even have iron to my name Y/N-” “Do you want me to help you get some?” You offered, cutting him off  “Well, actually I was hoping you could just give me some.”  “Tommy,” You laughed, “That’s- unfortunately, that not how it works my friend.” You paused, taking a sip of your water, “I am more than willing to help you go mining, I know a pretty good spot actually, but I’m not going to just give you stuff for nothing.”  “C’mon Y/N you could write it off your taxes as a charity donation,”  You had to give it to him, although Tommy could be annoying at times he was so effortlessly funny, you were almost certain that he didn't even have to try. 

“Ah yes, hang on let me see what I have to give to Tommy’s charity fund,” You laughed, looking through your inventory, pondering for a few moments, making it look like you were going to give him half your stack of iron only our stream before clicking to the three seeds you’d picked up some time ago and throwing them at his feet. His character's head went from looking at you to the seeds, then back to you and back to the seeds again, you pulled up his stream on your other monitor so you could see his face, trying so hard to not burst out into laughter when you saw his unamused look. 

Feeling bad you pulled up a donation, giving Tommy Five bucks so the text-to-speech would work, “Tommy Charity Fund.” You sent and waited for it to go through.  He paused, hearing the dono tts voice, before looking back up at you in the game.  “Fuck you,” He said running away. You couldn't suppress your laughter any longer and it all fell out at once, chat exploded into laughter and emotes, everyone found it hilarious.

A few seconds after you were still in the voice chat with Tommy, he had ventured off to go mining, I guess stealing from people wasn't going well. Since the last war, nobody has really been gathering supplies, taking a break from the lore to just get things done around the server. Tommy still bringing up the ‘charity fund’ you found it hilarious. 

“You’re a bitch you know that,” He mumbled, you knew he was only joking, with Tommy you never took anything to heart, if he had a true problem with you, you know he would message you privately.  “Tommy,” Wilbur's voice came over discord, making you jump slightly.  “Hi Wilbur,” He said, sounding like a little kid when their mom gets them in trouble.  “Apologize to Y/N.'' Wilbur's voice was playful, yet stern, sounding exactly like the older brother who was put in charge of his younger siblings. 

After a second, you could see Tommy bow his head on his stream that was still pulled up on your other monitor.  “Sorry, Y/N. You’re not a bitch.” He said  “It’s okay Tommy,” You chuckled  “Thank you.” Spoke Wilbur before leaving the voice chat. 

You and Tommy stayed on call until his stream ended. You were left alone, talking to your chat. Without anyone else there to keep a consistent conversation you started to daze off, forgetting you were on stream, yawning and leaning forward onto your desk. Your back hurt from how long you’d been sat in front of the monitor. 

Your discord made a noise again, but this time you didn’t bother tabbing out to see who had joined.  “Hey, Y/N,” Wilburs soft voice came across your headphones  “Will,” You smiled, sitting up  “You look tired, how long have you been up?” He asked 

You looked at the clock, it was only 11 PM but you could have sworn it was later.  “Since one,”  “AM or PM?” Will asked  You looked down, “AM,” You mumbled. “You should go to bed,” He said You sighed, knowing he could break you eventually, as your eyelids were drooping shut and your eyes were burning. “Its not even that long, Wil, I’m fine.” You argued 

“How long have you been streaming?” Wilbur asked  “I’m almost at my five hour mark, I’m like forty-five minutes away,”  “End your stream early and get ready for bed than we can chat,” His voice was soft and warm speaking over your stream, your chat exploded, loving Wilbur and you together.  “But I’m so close, just a few more minutes,” You sighed, tabbing out of your game and switching the stream to a full face cam. “I’m sure they wont mind if you end a little early, you've been streaming for a while, love.” He continued, slowly wearing you down. “I can even entertain your chat for a bit while you go get ready for bed, or even make yourself a cup of tea, then when you come back, it will be close enough that you can end the stream, how does that sound?”  You sighed, knowing he had won. You looked at chat and back to the timer of how long you've been on stream, “Okay.” You nodded. 

“Alright Chat, I’m sorry for ending early but you heard the man. Next week will be extra long to make up for this, I promise.” You said, looking at the chat, everyone was spamming ‘goodnight’ and ‘goodbye’  “It was nice spending this fine evening with you all, but I must go now, I will see everyone Monday. Bye!” You ended stream 

“Hi, Wilbur,” You smiled to yourself after ending stream  “I’m going to call your number now, and you can go get ready for bed, okay?” He said  “Alright, Wil,” you nodded, closing all the windows you had open on your pc. 

After shutting everything off you grabbed what you needed and went to the bathroom. Wilbur called you halfway through taking your makeup off, you had eyeliner smudged all around your eyes when you answered his facetime.  When his face popped up on your screen, he was wearing his glasses and a big smile, his hair was a mess and he was already in bed. 

“Getting ready for bed?” He asked, as if he didn't already know.  “Of course,” You shook your head, leaning closer to the mirror making sure you had all the bits of makeup taken off before washing your face with warm water  Picking up your phone you held up a peace sign, making Wil laugh and attempt to take a sneaky screenshot.  “Hey, no, delete that, I look terrible.” You quickly argued after hearing the noise.  “You do not.” He was fast to respond. “You look refreshed, you're glowing.” you shook your head at him as you walked back to your room through the dark house. 

Your roommate had already gone to bed, close to an hour ago. You were always the last person up, being an internet person with many American friends who are in a different time zone and a night owl at heart. You flopped down into your soft pillows, pulling your duvet over yourself and propping your phone up on your laptop so you could still see Wilbur and he could see you. You pulled the corner of the blanket up to hide your face. 

“Don't do that, I want to see your face,” Wilbur frowned.  “No you don’t,” You shook your head  “Yes,” He spoke, “I do.” You moved the blanket so it wasn't all the way covering your face but it was still pulled up enough that your shoulders were covered.  “You realize next week you’ll be here for your stream?” Wilbur said.  “I do now,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I didn't think of that,”  “Its okay, you can stream from my computer,” He smiled. “It will surprise chat,”  “Oh my god, can you imagine, they're going to go crazy,” You chuckled  “They will,”

Wilbur continued to tell you about how he was truly getting excited to have you meet him in person, but his soft voice had been lulling you to sleep, your eyelids struggling to stay open and your warm bed weighing you down. Eventually you were out. Wilbur didn't notice until he asked you a question and did not respond. Your laptop screen was still shining light on you, and he saw you were asleep against the black screen, smiling at you. He snuck another screenshot, making sure the sound was off this time. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said sweetly before getting comfortable in bed himself and slowly drifting off. 

[boonki]

ask from the lovely @lynnpaper from these prompts! Sorry in advance for the long post, but I love talking about my writing!! ❤️

F - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

So this is a little snippet from my college au from a chapter I haven’t posted yet (or edited yet, for that matter)- I just love writing Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s friendship so much and I think this captures their dynamic well (at least I hope so!): 

The small screen of Anakin’s laptop lights up the corner of his dorm room, a scary video game compilation playing on youtube. Ahsoka makes grabby hands for Anakin’s box of Cheez-its, and he reluctantly hands her the box, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. This has become their destressing ritual; Ahsoka always jokes that there’s nothing more relaxing than being scared shitless in a dark room at two am, and Anakin kind of has to agree. He does sleep better after watching Ahsoka lose her shit giggling and screaming for an hour.

The character onscreen makes their way through a nearly pitch black house, flashlight practically useless. Anakin’s stomach is clenched, a jump scare has to be coming soon.

Then, out of nowhere:

“So, are you going to ask him out?”

Anakin’s neck almost cracks, he snaps his head towards her so quickly. “What?”

She talks around a mouth of Cheez-its. “Oh, c’mon, you and Obi-wan. You clearly like him, and it sounds like he likes you too. So,” she shakes the box and shoves more into her mouth, giving herself chipmunk cheeks “you gon’ass’im?”

Anakin snatches the box out of her hands. “Absolutely not.”

Ahsoka sighs out of her nose and finishes chewing. “Why not? No-” she holds up a hand at his shriveling look “-hear me out. You really like him, Anakin. And I know we’ve never really talked about it, but I get the sense you’ve never really had a boyfriend before, and I don’t want you to pass this by just because you’re scared.”

Anakin is quiet for a moment, absentmindedly watching the video. “It’s not just that I’m scared. Well, I am, but it’s…” he shakes his head, grappling for the right words. Ahsoka watches him, patient. “Listen, my mom doesn’t know that I’m...that I like boys. And so I’ve never had the possibility of something working out with someone before, because I’ve always lived at home. And like, what if it works out and I fall in love with him, and then I lose him?” He closes his eyes at the emotion threatening tears, his honesty unlocking little bits of himself that he had neatly tucked away. “What if I fuck it all up? And the holidays are coming up and what if he wants to meet my family and what would I tell my mom? God, what if he doesn’t even like men and I’m just pining over someone I can’t have? Besides, why would he ever want someone like me?”

Ahsoka considers this all carefully, her lower lip pushed out in thought.

Anakin, eyes still closed, feels a sharp poke on his cheek: her finger. He startles, ready to admonish her, but she beats him to it.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

He looks down at the Cheez-it box. “I know, but-”

“And you deserve happiness, okay? Anakin, you deserve to be loved. I’m sorry that your mom doesn’t see eye to eye with you on this, but I’ll always love you and support you, no matter what, okay?” She reaches out and squeezes his bicep. “Go after him. You want this.”

Anakin can’t look at her, his eyes welling up in tears at her honesty, her love, her friendship. He is so lucky to have her.

She grabs the box back, takes a large handful into her mouth. “If you don’t ask him out, I’m gonna tell him about the time you farted when I cracked your back.”

He winces. “It was one time, please, let me forget.”

“Never. It smelled so bad.”

“I mean, I could probably go for one right now,” he presses on his stomach, and grins devilishly at her, “if we’re gonna talk about how bad they smell.”

Her eyebrows jump up, and so does she, racing for the door. “No, absolutely not, goodbye and goodnight, I am going home.”

“Come back, I’m kidding.” He’s laughing, deep belly laughs that are working to cleanse him of the sadness of their conversation.

She eyes him warily. “Pinky promise.”

He holds up his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

When she lifts her hand, he grabs her wrist and pulls her into his side, trapping her in a hug.

“Thank you, for, y’know...being my friend.” He mumbles into her hair while she squirms against him.

She stills. “Anytime, loser.” Her arms thread around his middle, hugging him back. He can smell the lingering Cheez-its on her breath. “I mean it, you deserve love.”

G - Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Start to finish! I usually outline in detail first and then sit down and actually do the writing. The only times I’ll write in advance is if a scene is really bugging to be written or I get sudden inspiration. Otherwise I confuse myself writing out of order- keeping track of all the details in a fic is really hard 😭

N - Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Oooh yes. There’s this living ship/pirate au that we’ve kicked around on the discord server I’m a part of and I have a vague outline out of it but I have so many other projects going on so I haven’t gotten to it! But I’m so excited for it! I love the premise so much. I wish someone else could write it out so I could just read it 😂

R - Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Most definitely! I can’t name names but every fic I read I pay attention to the style and prose and definitely get inspired by it and try to work it into my own writing! Lately I’ve been trying to get better at making sure there’s enough detail in a scene so it’s not all prose and dialogue, so I’ve been paying attention to that in fics. But if I’ve ever read your fic, you’ve influenced me in some way. 

U - Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

This is so hard!! There are so many good writers out there!! 

Off the top of my head: 

@sonderwalker writes great sickfics and hurt/comfort, she makes me literally uwu in my heart

@shatouto has beautiful, lyrical works that i adore

@intermundia - everything they write is gold. my god

@katierosefun has wonderful little prompts that make me smile every time they come across my dash! 

@jenjenpup her future in motion fic is one of my favorite right now! 

@unpheenix young and menace is going to be one of my all time favs 

lilyconrad on ao3 (anyone know their tumblr?) - i’ve read like everything theyve written 

@xeniaraven i love everything!!! so good!! i always want to scream in the comments after

WhiteMoose and Ripki on ao3 - wrote fucking beautiful novels for fun?? hello?? their fics are amazing 

and so many more omg literally all my friends on here are such talented writers that keep me on my toes! i feel like i have to keep up with them!! if you didn’t get mentioned please know that you should be on here, i just suck at remembering everyone (that’s what happens when you read like 453489 fics a day)

thank you for the ask my dear!! i hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!! ❤️❤️❤️

[cathyparrlyn]

Just out of curiosity, what are the requirements to be adopted?

Don’t be a trigger for me, my spouse or any of my kids, be a minor, be nice to all of your siblings and my spouse :D (I would say me, but I let some kids bully me lol) and just to ask to be one or talk to me and wait for me to ask (I tend to ask after first meeting people lol)

Pros of being my child are:

-love spam, I am big on sending love whenever I can to my kids if they are comfortable with it

-invitation to our family discord server if you wish to join (just ask me or wait till I ask)

-back up or an ear to listen whenever need be, my dms are always open and I am always happy to help out any of my kids who reach out to me

-arson privileges (once again, just don’t tell your mother)

-a bunch of fun and sweet siblings who honestly I would sell my soul for

-option to join our family game time :D

-and pictures of pets, pretty women, or jokes most likely sent to you at some point in time, and virtual huggles if you are okay with them :D

Cons of being my kid:

-you have a chaotic bi disaster for a mom

-I make puns

Please do reach out if you want to be my kid though, I love adopting kids and growing the fake family and making friends 🥺💙

[orihara-infobroker]

Ranty rant rant about stuff because this cat just needs to vent.

So I've mentioned this before a few times though I don't really talk about it all that much. One of my on-and-off hobbies is role-playing. Tabletop, live-action, or narrative writing, I pretty much enjoy them all. For similar reasons to why I love writing stories. I like creating characters and worlds. In writing I do all the heavy lifting but role-playing has the unique experience of collaborative storytelling and that adds an element that can be very fun. Also, sometimes it's just fun to play in someone else's sandbox for a change.

Some time ago, a friend invited me to check out a Harry Potter rp site. The site itself is pretty decently setup and it seemed like it could be interesting. I'm not a huge Potter nerd but I've seen the movies and I'm a sucker for fantasy settings. But this isn't the first time I've dipped my toes in the HP universe so I thought that instead of doing the standard Eurocentric character, I'd try something different.

I admit, I'd been working pretty heavily on Shadow and Light at the time so that was strongly influencing my mood insofar as what I wanted to play with. So I submitted the idea of a Japanese character who had grown up in Japan but recently moved to London (thus why I'd be attending Hogwarts). The character's parents were onmyoji, part of a branch family of the Tsuchimikado clan. This clan is somewhat famous for its relation to Abe no Seimei who is arguably the most famous onmyoji in Japanese folklore. I also requested that the character be a metamorph which is a wizard who can change their features. Basically a kind of shape-shifting. Tonks was a metamorph, for reference. In requesting this, I was asked to explain why my family had a metamorph. So I wrote a piece where the character's mom told him the story of Abe no Seimei's mom being a fox that his Dad saved and that there had been stories told of how Abe no Seimei could change his appearance. (Not into a fox. Just change his appearance.) And how sometimes people in the clan would be born with the same ability.

Note that everything I incorporated into this character's backstory is based off actual Japanese mythology and not Harry Potter universe. Harry Potter universe doesn't actually address anything about how magic is done in the East. (And if Rowling ever comes up with anything it'll probably be hideously racist anyway but I digress.)

All of this is important, I promise.

So I was a Japanese pureblood kid raised to become an onmyoji only to end up at Hogwarts by pure misfortune. I thought this would be fun to play, basically a foreign exchange student completely out of his element, not understanding how Western magic works, struggling with having to learn English on top of magic, etc.

Well.

Apparently my idea set all sorts of fires under the admin staff of this site. They were opposed because:

1. They didn't think I knew what I was talking about when I suggested being onmyoji (wherein I proved that I actually know more about onmyoji and Japanese mythology than them.)

2. They didn't have lore on the East therefore they didn't want me making stuff up because it might not mesh with what they might eventually get around to creating somewhere down the road. Even though they had no current plans to develop the Eastern setting. (Yeah. You read that right. I was told... in a role play game... not to make stuff up... which is ironic given that I didn't actually make anything up, just liberally stole from actual Japanese mythology. Further, my character was going to Hogwarts so all of this was just backstory and flavour.)

3. I CANNOT BE RELATED TO ABE NO SEIMEI HE IS LIKE THE JAPANESE MERLIN!!!!!!! (Oh yes. Please. Make more ignorant racist comments at me. From now on I shall refer to Merlin as the English Abe no Seimei. -_- Abe no Seimei, while unlikely to be as mystical as he was made out to be in the stories, was a real person. Merlin was never real. He was always a fictional creation. Further, I never claimed to be related to Abe no Seimei. I claimed to be a branch family of the Tsuchimikado Clan to whom Abe no Seimei was either a member of or the founder of, depending on varying stories. So. Apparently they don't understand how Japanese clans work? Or branch families? No? OK, great. GREAT.)

4. They claimed that my story about the kitsune wasn't appropriate because kitsune were a type of mythical creature and metamorphs are completely human so I can't be "half-fox". Further, one of them claimed I wanted to be "half-demon". (Which is both a grave misinterpretation of what I wrote *and* a completely incorrect assumption on what kitsune are. They are not any kind of demon. And I didn't want to be any kind of half demon or even half fox. It was a story told from a mother to a child, using a classic myth to convey a possible reason why their family sometimes had metamorphs. That's it. Which, if they had understand that whole BRANCH FAMILY thing, they should have definitely realized. But apparently I wasn't clear enough? Ok. Fine, maybe I was too fucking subtle. Still never asked to be half fucking anything. Asked to be a metamorph. That's it.)

5. Labeled me as a problem because of all of this. Which occurred over the course of two conversations and a handful of days. Yeah. YEAH. I'M A FUCKING PROBLEM BECAUSE I TRIED TO BE FUCKING CREATIVE IN THEIR FUCKING SANDBOX AND HAPPENED TO ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I WAS TALKING ABOUT WHICH TURNED OUT TO BE SIGNIFICANTLY MORE THAN THEM.

And it's so frustrating because I was looking forward to playing with my friend on this site and I genuinely felt like they were targeting me because I didn't choose a basic bitch character and I had the nerve to ask questions when they tried to contest it. Like, it wasn't a genuine conversation where two sides explained their opinions. It was literally me trying to propose something and being treated like a child when I was repeatedly trying to explain where they were misinterpreting the things I had written because they didn't know Japanese history/mythology.

I've been a gamemaster/storyteller for games before. Over the course of my time role-playing, I've run four Larps, a handful of tabletops and hosted a couple online rps. My Discord server is technically a role play server that I moderate ( currently its mostly just chatting, not a lit of rp but it was designed to be rp lol). I know how these things work. And that just makes this more frustrating because my impulse, as a storyteller, has always been to work together with players to create engaging stories. I've always been willing to accept the potential of new ideas because the whole point of fucking role-playing is getting to exercise your imagination and tell stories together. So from my perspective, I'd be more than happy to work with them on this. I'd be more than happy to share what I know and talk about what could work or not work. But they don't seem to want to engage in that way and it makes me sad, frustrated, disappointed. Especially because I had really been looking forward to playing with my friend and now it seems that this whole thing is doomed to failure.

All because I got creative and asked questions. :/

[ruiyuki-archives]

Todomomo Childhood-friends-to-best-friends-to-roommates-to-FWB-to-lovers Quirkless AU [Part 1]

This is an AU I wrote on the todomomo discord server eons ago. Since it’s forever buried in the server now, this is a copy-paste from the chat. 

Anything posted to this blog will be transcripts of old original work and not really edited, save for formatting. I have no guarantees if I will ever finish these AUs either so these will only be kept as an archive.

Originally posted: May 2018.

Part 1 (sfw) || Part 2 (nsfw) || Part 3 (nsfw)

Ok. Heres some garbage childhood-friends-to-best-friends-to-roomates-to-fwb-to-lovers quirkless AU that wont leave me alone for some few nights:

BASICALLY todo and momo knew each other since they were 5, coming from rich families as rich families do

(their moms were college friends or smth but then todo's mom got an arrange marriage w endeavor but idk lets just make enji's not as shitty of a father in this AU and doesnt abuse his family aghshcjfjsl)

BUT ANYWAY ye todo and momo grew up as childhood friends and their moms always arranged play dates for them

and momo's a super curious girl since day 1, and todo's his usual smol shy boy self

so during these playdates all the cute 5 year old shenangians happen like momo taking todo outside to explore her 20 acre backyard and them going on imaginary adventures, going through momo's mountain of books in their mansion's library, accidentally fall asleep together on the couch after a fun day n stuff

and todo slowly opens up from being shy but only to momo bc she's his first friend and a beautiful ray of sunshine and honestly who wouldnt love her

so with their families being so close they basically grow up together; todo and momo spending their summers together, always attending the same rich people balls and stuff that adults do but are boring for kids etc etc

they dont go to the same school so whenever todo visits momo she listens to him talk abt the weird stuff fuyumi and touya (dabi) get into bc theyre teenagers and honestly he doesnt understand

and at some point when theyre like 8 he talks abt how fuyumi is gushing over teenage shoujo romances and how kissing and all that lovey dovey stuff has gotta be weird and whats so special about it she wont shut up?

and momo listens intently but after todo's rant, momo, being curious as she is, is like "I wanna know what its like!!" "wat" "what its like to kiss someone!" "momo youre crazy" "No no seriously i wanna know! Can we try?" "WAT" "please :( kiss me :(" "..." "Pleaaaseeeee" "... ok fine one time"

he really cant say no to her

and so like, they have a little quick peck on the lips while theyre sitting outside in momo's garden on the swings

and a second later theyre like "..." "..." "... ew das weird lets not do that again" "yeah"

(Rmbr theyre 8)

so thats that until later.. 👀

when they reach middle school age momo moves with her family to america for a couple years bc of her dad's company

their moms still tried to let them telephone call or write letters to each other while apart

most of the letters exchanged were todo asking what momo's life was like in america, and momo rambling abt a new book or learning english or why on earth do american toilets suck (todo replies with a bunch of smug remarks and tells her to come home then)

momo checks up on todo to make sure hes making friends in middle school but ofc he tells her not to worry but really hes lonely orz

but then one day he gets a letter saying she'll be returning to Japan for high school n everything bc she and her mom are moving back but her dad is staying in the states. And she'll be attending the same high school as him!! 👀

and ya. That..  happens. LOL they meet each other on the first day at UA (prestigous school not for heroing) and theyre in the same class and they sit next to each other and wow this is too perfect

but also like, lets not forget, its been 3 years since theyve seen each other and well.

Puberty hit both of them like a train.

Welp. 👀

thankfully they havent lost their chemistry and (mostly) everything is the same.... but also different.

its like the aomine and momoi thing in knb; todo tells momo to call him "todoroki-san" instead of shouto and he goes back to (trying to) call her Yaoyorozu bc its gonna look weird to the rest of their class if theyre overly familiar w each other (especially with a wretched pervert sitting in front of momo)

but really they still call each other by name when theyre alone

(and also todo slips up calling her Momo a lot unconsciously still even tho it was him that suggested it in the first place)

and so, high school flies by with both of them being hyper aware of differences from when they were kids

shouto becomes more shoujo every passing year with fangirls and cherry blossom petals and everything and momo makes fun of him bc it was the exact thing he couldnt understand as a kid

they have a few moments of their own awkward suggestively shoujo moments too like in the home ec room on valentines day when momo tries to make chocolates but makes a mess out of the kitchen and todo passes by and helps clean up but they end up making a bigger mess and oops. Momo slipped onto the floor and todo tried to catch her but oops he slipped too and now theyre in a compromising position as aizawa walks in 😳

but does anything come out of it?... not really.

university applications come around the corner in their senior year and guess what. Their programs of choice are offered by the same university. And they both get accepted. Woohoooooo

and guess double what. Touya (dabi) suggests they rent a flat together bc why the hell not it kills two birds w one stone on their living situation (since dorms are offered to less.. wealthy.. students first or smth)

so they do. Theyre adults now. They've know each other for all their lives. Its good to have someone you trust nearby. It'll be fine, right? right?!?

WRONG.

neither of them expected to experience just how domestic they could be

ie. Momo walking into the kitchen in the morning to find todo, making breakfast, shirtless in just his pajama pants, hair still ruffled with bed head, offering her a cup of coffee

..... fuck since when did he get so hot. Wait what? Snap out of it Momo!! "three creams no sugar, here" "How did you know?" "Momo i've known you since we were 5. You like your coffee sickeningly pale that it shouldnt even be classified as coffee anymore" "..... thanks"

ie #2. Todo hearing momo calling him from the inside of the bathroom, while she's showering?!??!?!, like it was an emergency "momo what is it?" "Ummm i ran out of soap and forgot to bring a new one on the way in. Can you grab it for me?" "Wat?!" "Hand me the soap shouto. I bought a new one today, its in the kitchen. I left the door unlocked so just come in. Please!!" "... you trust me too much" he mumbles under his breath.

footnotes:

the ending of this is probably along the lines of oooo they realize some feelings happen and is it okay to fall in love with your best friend/childhood friend/roomate?!?!? and yes, the answer is yes

todo still does become friends w the deku squad while in UA

Theyve dated other people before the whole -to-lovers part (bc ya bet Imma throw in iidamomo or smth but it didnt work out) (gonna get reaaal awks when the fwb kick in)

somehow i'll throw in eri as dadzawa's daughter, some how

dabi knows

shouto doesnt even know what he knows, he just knows

> archives masterpost

[afoolforatook]

Thank you, Wellies

So. I’ve been trying to do both class work and working on wips and just nothing is clicking. So, I thought I should go ahead and do this post, that I’ve been putting off, because.....it’s next week y’all.... So here goes. 

Here’s my original post, that explains what this comic meant to me four years ago. 

And here’s what it means to me now. (this is really long, sorry)

Man, I don’t really even know where to start this. How to start to say thank you. To Ngozi, to all of you.... It’s not possible to fully express what all of you have been for me the past four years. What this story has been for me. 

So many things have changed since I made this post almost four years ago. 

So many things haven’t. 

I’ve been way less active in the fandom since starting at SCAD, and I really was never that incredibly active to begin with, outside of my small group of friends on a discord server. 

And at times I feel bad about that. 

But it’s not because I don’t care about or need this community anymore. 

Rather it’s because this community, this story, gave me the strength to keep moving, and now I want to keep doing so, and make something that might one day even barely begin to show my gratitude. 

So until then, all I can do is say thank you over and over. I can never possibly say it enough. 

But still I wanted to thank you now, and try to explain to you what this comic about hockey and pies has meant to me, one last time before it ends. So that’s what I’ll try to do. 

It was surreal rereading this old post earlier this week. Reading 

“I think I could write a book just of our history and everything leading up to now and the details of this whole event” 

When I wrote this post four years ago, I honestly couldn’t imagine a future where I’d be anything other than incomplete.Or even a future at all. Everyday was just getting up and making myself keep breathing, keep trying to push towards something, even though I had no idea what that could ever be. 

For the first year I wrote daily journal entries, telling Emma about what happened that day, screaming at the universe for doing this, trying to help my future self remember little things, because everything was so hard to hold on to. 

Update days were always something nearly sacred to me. And really not even from a fan point of view. I don’t read them around other people. I sit somewhere quiet, by myself, and read slowly. Because they are little moments I try to share with her still. The only person I want with me when I read them that first time is her, in whatever capacity I can bring myself to imagine. 

A few months after the crash, I found one of Emma’s Spotify playlists. She made playlists for everything; birthday and Christmas presents, mood playlists, friend playlists, monthly playlists. 

This was her May 2016 playlist. Last updated May 16th. Two days before the crash. 

That playlist was literally the only thing I listened to for months on end. 38 songs.Over and over. 

And as I listened I started to think that, just maybe, some of these songs she put there for me. 

West Coast; the song me and Emma would send to each other after high school whenever we wanted to let the other know how much we missed them. 

All I Want is to Be Your Girl. I mean?? 

Slowly I found lyrics in every song that even if just in my own fantasy, were little messages from Emma, telling me to keep going, how to stay strong. 

I was always looking for stories, books, movies, songs, anything about someone grieving the kind of loss I was. Nothing I found felt like it really represented me. If it was about someone young, it was due to suicide or violence or illness. If it was a car crash, it was about a parent or child. If it somehow fit my other demographics, it was never queer. 

I felt totally alone in the exact manifestation of my grief. Like no one else could understand all the tiny details that seemed, to me, to make this all more and more cartoonishly cruel. 

(though one of the most touching moments of my life will always be when Emma’s step mom, the only person in her family who knows about us, sent me a book about grieving a spouse. I cried for hours when I opened that.)

I didn’t have outside representation, support. But I had journals. I had Emma’s songs. I had poems and a handful of inktober drawings. I had my little update moments of connection. And I had so much to say. 

Months, years, of isolation gives you a lot of time to examine your feelings, to question the meaning of things, to think about what exactly grief looked like to you and about how you wanted to live the rest of your life, as someone grieving a love. 

And slowly I began to connect those thoughts to individual lyrics from Emma’s playlist and that helped me actually write all those thoughts out, organize them. 

And that’s how The Mixtape Project started (I still hate using the word memoir. I had to find something else to call it). A book about us. About Emma. About all those thoughts I’d had so long to sit with. Structured around the songs from her playlist. 

I remember the exact moment that I realized that Check Please was going to actively change my life. I was talking to my dad about it, about why I loved the storytelling, the characters, the art, so much. 

I’d told him many times before. But it was always tied to Emma in a way, or to the reasons that I identified with Jack. It was always a little sad in some way. 

But this time. This time it was just excitement. It was just a kid who has always loved words, gushing about a story that fascinated them. 

And I realized. It was the first time I had been just happy, excited, in the months since losing Emma. I remembered all those ideas Emma helped me with in high school, how we gushed over stories like that. I remembered what it was like to just love something and want to create, just because it made you happy. 

I knew I couldn’t go back to UNCA, and none of the other creative writing programs I had looked at seemed like they would fit the new person I was. 

So, for the hell of it, looking for some idea at how to start my life over, I looked at Ngozi’s personal story. And there was SCAD. There was sequential art. 

Now. I’d never ever considered myself an artist. I went to an art high school, I knew art kids. I was never one of them. But that sequential part? That. THAT was what I wanted. That was what I could still be excited about. 

That was how I could pull the Mixtape Project together. The writing, the poems, the art, the music. Comics. Sequential art. A graphic memoir that played with the format. That was the project that kept me going. That was what I was working for. That was the first future I was able to see now that Emma was gone. 

So, for the first time since literally elementary school, I took an art class (also took a mythology class at the same time, which really helped keep my art and storytelling tied). 

I loved it. I was actually happy with my work, surprised by my work and how quickly I felt like I improved (I wouldn’t learn about aphantasia until I got to SCAD, and understand that that drawing 1 class had been so fun, and in a way, easy, because it was all direct observation, and that drawing from memory and imagination would be a much steeper learning curve for me.)

So, when the class ended I thought ‘you know, maybe some kind of art school could be a good idea.’

And then one of my life long best friends, a SCAD animation student, encouraged me to apply, to just go for it. 

And I did. It was a long shot, I was sure. We couldn’t afford it. Why would I get that in that kind of commitment, debt,  after 1 art class? It wasn’t logical. But it felt good. So I did. 

And then I got accepted, and the initial excitement soon fell away, to me and my parents knowing that it really wasn’t doable. 

But we went to admitted students day, just to see. And when we got home, both of my parents cried for a long time. The first happy cry in our house for over two years.

Because they had decided that they had to figure out a way to make it work. 

Because standing in Haymans hall was the first time they had seen me excited about the future since Emma died. It was the first time they’d seen me feel like there was somewhere I was meant to be, that there was somewhere I could fit again. 

So we made it happen. I’ll still be in debt for years, and it’s not necessarily something I’d wholeheartedly recommend to kids getting out of high school, that debt isn’t worth it for many people. 

For me it wasn’t really even worth it exactly for SCAD itself, and you’ll have plenty of professors tell you here that really what you pay for isn’t the education but the networking. 

But for me. For me it was worth it. 

Because I wasn’t wasting away in my basement. 

And I really wasn’t where I’d have liked to have been, ideally, before starting. I was a BRAND new artist. My portfolio for my application was solely my writing work. I hadn’t ever done anything more than scribbled fan comics in my sketchbook. I was coming in wayyyyy behind where most other people were. But I couldn’t wait to feel like I was good enough to be there. There was a strong chance that it was quite literally, a matter of survival. I was reaching a breaking point after nearly three years of isolation and grief with no outlet. The future debt was less of a concern than making sure I didn’t have a complete mental breakdown or worse. 

Now, of course, it hasn’t all been easy or fun or happy once I got here. I’ve doubted myself, I’ve had awful weeks, months, been stressed, unmotivated, in pain, near burnout. 

The first quarter I was absolutely miserable because I had literally no social life. 

Because I was an agoraphobic 23 yr old, living with 17/18 yr olds fresh out of high school. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d dissociate so easily. I’d let myself believe that I was still a teenager fresh from high school. That the past three years of agony hadn’t happened. That I could call Emma and it would ring again. She would answer again. And that illusion was a dangerous pit to fall into. 

And it wasn’t until this fall that my social life really started to improve, beyond one or two close friends. And even still, while it’s much better, it’s nothing like UNCA, like the tight knit family I had that made me identify with SMH and the Haus atmosphere so much. 

But I was moving forward. Agonizingly slowly sometimes. But still forward. 

And then last Spring quarter, just about a year ago, I was in Survey for SEQA. Basically comic book history class. And our final was a 4 page research comic on a comic artist we admired. So of course, I was going to do mine on Ngozi. 

The comic was due at the end of the quarter, the end of May. 

Now, that quarter was the first time I was actually in SEQA classes; Survey, and Intro. 

And those four pages would be the first fully colored, refined comic pages I had EVER done. It was intimidating. I didn’t want to mess it up. Especially because this wasn’t some big name of some far off artist you would never have any connection to. This was someone who all my professors knew. 

I ended up getting extremely lucky and had the chance to email Ngozi and ask if she’d be able to give for a quote for the project, advice for current SCAD students. 

She replied to my email the weekend of the 3rd anniversary. (I then spent hours on a thank you email - because that’s who I am, I can’t not over analyze anything I’m sending to someone important - and then I managed to save it to drafts instead of actually sending it...something I would not notice until literally months later and be absolutely mortified about my apparent rudeness of never thanking her.)

I still am not really happy with how that project came out. I still had (and have) a lot to learn, and it shows. I have, in no way, become an amazing comic artist overnight. I wasn’t expecting to.

But that short email exchange, falling on that weekend; it felt special. It felt like some speck of proof that I was doing the right thing. That things could actually go well in my life again. That if I kept going, I might actually get somewhere that I wanted to be. That maybe I really could make The Mixtape Project happen, if I just kept at it here. 

And then I found out that in the fall, Ngozi would be the SEQA mentor. 

Unfortunately by the time I had all the details about how to apply, the quarter had started and there were only a couple of weeks before it was due, and the only pages I had even anywhere close to being portfolio ready were either my research comic or a few older Check Please fan comics, none of which I would even have considered putting in that portfolio (I’m not 100% certain it would actually have come across as sucking up but it sure felt like it would have). And despite my best efforts, it just wasn’t possible, with how slow I work and having to keep up with classwork, for me to get a portfolio ready in time. 

That hurt for a while. I felt like I had this clear sign of perfect timing. How could I pass up that chance? How could I forgive myself for not doing everything I could to earn that experience? How was I not letting Emma down if I ruined this opportunity? 

It took a while to get out of that negative thought spiral. But I did, and it’s still a bummer, but it’s okay. 

And something that really helped? 

In October, Ngozi still came to campus to give a lecture. And that would have been good enough; just sitting in on that helped me feel excited, encouraged again. But then, after the lecture (with my amazing roommate waiting patiently behind with me, to make sure I didn’t actually have a panic attack on the way home) I got to talk to her. 

We all hope to one day get to talk to the people who inspired us, whose work we love, to tell them how much they mean to us. And yes, I was a little version of starstruck. 

But that wasn’t why I was shaking. That wasn’t why I told her I was going to do my best to get this out without crying (and I did, I’m proud to say). 

It was because I had the opportunity, while at the school that had given me a chance to start my life again, to thank the woman who was in all likelihood, one of the main reasons I was even still alive. If it had not been for Check Please I wouldn’t have had that good thing to keep sharing with Emma. I wouldn’t have found sequential art, at least not for a while longer probably. I wouldn’t have been able to finally picture a future I wanted to get to. 

And I’ll be honest, I don’t remember 90% of what I actually said that night to Ngozi. 

But I told her my story. I told her about Emma. About how Check Please was the last thing we got to share. I thanked her. And she was wonderful and kind and emotional and hugged me a couple of times, and even though I don’t remember a lot of what I actually said; it was something that will be one of the most important, affirming moments of my life. 

I didn’t have a panic attack on the way home. I somehow managed to not cry until we were back to our dorm. But I was stunned. 

Not even because of the amazing moment I had been able to have with Ngozi. 

But because it hit me. 

I was doing it. I was there. I had actually made it this far. 

Somewhere that just over a year ago I never would have believed was possible. 

A time when, two years before, I hadn’t even been sure I could make it to alive. 

That weekend was my 24th birthday. And it was the first birthday since I left UNCA at 19, that I didn’t just hate the fact that I was getting older. That I was moving away from the happiest parts of my life so far. 

Yes it still hurt getting further from Emma, putting another tick on the years that I got that she didn’t. 

But I was actually finally excited at the idea of even having a future, let alone having an idea of what it could be. 

February was a difficult month for me. I have another (entirely way too long) post about why everything that happened with RWBY and Fairgame was so difficult for me, but to put it simply; my hope for the future was shaken.

I was back in the toxic negative thought spirals I had fought for years to train myself out of. 

I was seeing Emma, or her brother, or her mom, in crowds; something I hadn’t experienced since the first few months after the crash. I was in one of the biggest crisis moments I’d had since Emma’s death. 

But I was more experienced than when I was 20. 

It wasn’t fun, a lot of it probably wasn’t the ideal way to cope, but I did it. And I kept up with my work. I isolated more, but not completely. I made myself vent on snapchat or tumblr, and not worry about oversharing or annoying people, because it was either get it out or let it fester in my head.  And I couldn’t afford to let that happen. 

In mid March, I made a pitch packet for my comic scripting final. 

It was for The Mixtape Project. It was hard, and nerve-wracking, and there’s still mountains of work to be done. 

But after my initial synopsis (first of like seven versions, cause trying to put this thing in a good synopsis format is a nightmare) my professor told me that he thought my story had potential. 

That he could see it being published. He suggested, knowing that I was planning on taking his advanced scripting course this quarter (hey remember how mid march was only a few weeks ago?? Huh?? wild), that I keep working on it, and see about taking it to Editor’s day (SEQA students’ opportunity to basically pitch themselves and their ideas to publishers). 

Now, my professor is by no means an overly harsh critic, and is plenty supportive in general. 

But I also knew that that was not just something he said to students all the time. That he meant it. 

Editor’s Day (now online) is in mid May. The week of the 4th anniversary of Emma’s death, to be exact. 

Everything is a mess right now, and I’m stressed and tired and scared and heartbroken (this will be the first time since I was 9 that I have not had Merlefest; the highlight of my year, and since Emma’s death; the last big happy thing before I plunge into the nightmare that is May). 

Tuesday will come. Check Please will end. I will continue to support Ngozi and her work after Bitty’s story ends. 

But it will be sad. It won’t be easy. 

This thing that has been my tether to the most important person in my life, will still be there, but it will be over. 

It will have a concrete end. It will no longer be part of the future I am pushing towards. 

But I am a different person than the shattered kid who wrote this post four years ago. 

I’m not who I was before Emma died. I never will be. I’d never try to be. I want Emma back more than anything. But that won’t happen. And as long as this is all real, I never want to pretend this didn’t happen. 

That I didn’t shatter in a way that will never heal like people expect. 

I’m still all those shattered pieces that wrote this post. Maybe a few have had the edges dulled, maybe I’ve lost a few, glued a few together perfectly, maybe picked up a few stray pieces that didn’t come from the me from before. 

But I will be those shattered pieces for the rest of my life. 

They won’t magically fuse back together. I work every day to hold them, to keep myself in some shape that resembles a functioning person. 

Some days I fail. Some days, I am too tired to even try. Some days, I am so angry, I’d rather hurl the pieces at whatever power or fate or god or chaos decided that I got to live and she didn’t. 

But those days pass. 

And I learn how to hold the pieces better, how to avoid the sharpest edges, how to take care of the wounds when I inevitably cut myself on one, how to allow other people to help me hold them, how to accept that some pieces may feel safe and smooth and comforting but they are traps, illusions that are the easy way to do things, but not the healthy way, not the way that will help me achieve my goals.

That person, made of all those unholdable pieces, four years ago, was staying alive for everyone else but themself. 

And some days I still am. 

For my parents. For Emma. For all the other queer, mentally ill, grieving kids and young adults and just people, who are looking for the same representation I was, who feel as alone as I still do so often. 

But some days. 

On those really good days. 

I’m alive, carrying all those pieces, just because I want to be. For me. 

I want to spin around in the morning, singing along to my bluegrass spotify. I want to get excited over finally figuring out how to write that line that was giving me so much trouble, or finish that sketch that I never thought I could manage. I want to hope that despite how awful everything seems, there’s still a good future out there. It’s still possible to be happy some days. 

I want to cry because I get to see Jack and Bitty get the happy ending that me and Emma didn’t. 

And now, unlike that version of me from four years ago, when it ends, I will have things still. 

Things that I have worked everyday to reach, to deserve, to hold out to people and say

 “Hey, sometimes everything hurts and you know that things will never be what they were, and parts of you will always miss that. But there are still things you can find that hurt less, that ease the hurt, that teach you how to better hold the hurt, to stop trying to say it doesn’t exist or trying to get rid of it completely and hating yourself when you can’t. You can still be hurt, be irreparably broken in so many places, and still find the happy things. You are still worthy of love, no matter how broken you are. Your worth is not tied to how much you are able to heal.  You are worthy of so much love, just because you are still here, no matter how many tiny pieces you are in.”  

The thing is, I will still always have a future that includes Emma. Because I couldn’t tell you exactly which of my pieces are from her, but so many of them are. 

There is no version of me, from here on to the day I die, that does not have her influence embedded in every piece. 

These days I try to be a little kinder to myself. It doesn’t always work, but I try. 

Because, to Emma, I was Bitty. I radiated that “thing”. 

Whether or not I saw it in myself, doesn’t matter, because she did. 

But to me she was the one who radiated. 

And she is a part of me. She can’t radiate that “thing” herself anymore. 

But I can, at least I can try.

Because If this person I loved and trusted so immensely, saw something worth loving in me? There must be something there worth loving, right? 

And if she is a part of me for the rest of my life, how can I hate myself? How can I do anything but keep going so that, even if just in my head, a part of her gets to keep going too. 

My family and friends joke that every friend group I’ve ever had calls me something different. And really it’s not a joke. In middle school I was CB #4 (that’s a long, terribly embarrassing, story). In high school I was Pond (and many variations there of: Pondala, Pondy, Raindrop, Puddle, you get the picture). At UNCA, when I came out as nonbinary, I started going by Auden. When I went home it was back to Meagan; Meagan always felt right with my parents. 

With Emma I was always Meagan. We were Meagan and Emma. Megma. Meagan and Emma have online adventures!

After she was gone, Meagan didn’t really feel like me anymore. I loved Meagan, I missed Meagan, I wished I could still really fully be Meagan, and I’m okay still being Meagan sometimes. 

But that real Meagan. The Meagan that was Emma’s Meagan. Doesn’t exist anymore. I lost that Meagan somewhere in that first night of screaming and trying to break my hand against the wall, so I could just feel something other than the agony of Emma being gone.

When I joined a Check Please chat group, a few months after the crash, we gave each other hockey nicknames. I was Farley. 

My second quarter at SCAD, I started going by Farley. It stuck. 

That’s who this version of me is. This new artist, still figuring things out, but still going. 

I may not always stay Farley (other than ya’know artist ‘branding’. We’ll see) but that’s okay. Farley is who I need to be right now. 

Farley is who will finish The Mixtape Project. 

(because of two people mishearing both my nickname and last name I will, at least once in my career, use the pseudonym Fartley McFarmland and no one will stop me). 

I can’t imagine what, who, will come after Farley, if anything.

But Check Please will always be a part of making Farley, and every future version of me, exist. 

I could go on and on about how beautiful this story and these characters are, how inspiring Ngozi is, how genius her storytelling is, how powerful and important her work is. I could go on for days about all of that. But this is already so long, and I know that so many of you can go on about that probably way better than I could currently. 

But, as many of my professors tell us over and over, only I can tell this story. My story. Emma’s story. Our story. And it’s one I plan on telling for the rest of my life. 

And Check Please, Ngozi, will forever be the thing that made that possible.

So thank you. Those two words that are way too small to say it all. 

Thank you. 

Every fic writer

Every artist

Every rper 

Every chat friend

Every shitposter

Every theorist or meta poster

Every fan

Thank you. 

B. “Shitty” Knight. 

Larissa “Lardo” Duan

Adam “Holster” Birkholtz

Justin “Ransom” Oluransi

John Johnson

Ollie O'Meara 

Pacer Wicks

Jenny and Mandy

Nicholas and Jean-Claude

Coach Hall 

Coach Murray

Suzanne Bittle

Richard “Coach” Bittle

William “Dex” Poindexter

Derek “Nursey” Nurse

Chris “Chowder” Chow

Kent Parson

Alicia Zimmermann

“Bad” Bob Zimmermann

Tony “Tango” Tangredi

Connor “Whiskey” Whisk

Denice “Foxtrot” Ford

Fry Guy

Georgia “Georgie” Martin

Alexei “Tater” Mashkov

Sebastian “Marty” St. Martin

Dustin “Snowy” Snow

Poots

Randall “Thirdy” Robinson

Jonathan “Hops” Hopper

River “Bully” Bullard

Lukas “Louis” Landmann

(I’m almost certain I had to have missed someone)

Thank you.

Jack “Zimmboni” Laurent Zimmermann

Thank you.

Eric “Bitty” Richard Bittle

Thank you.

Ngozi Ukazu

Thank you. For everything. 

For having my back. I’ll always have yours.

Always yours, 

Farley M.

[ultrainfinitepit]

Town of Puddle

Town of Puddle is my sprawling mess of an OCverse. Here’s the tag! Sometimes there is scary stuff in there like body horror, monsters, and shitposts. So be careful.

Town of Puddle takes place roughly during the Victorian era. Puddle is a little town in New England. Due to various things it is stuck in perpetual autumn. Puddle is pretty close to Boston and the city of Swich, which is where New York used to be.

Sam lives in Puddle with his friends Lily, Cale, and Ezekiel. Sam is a hunter. Hunters hunt monsters and are members of the Order. However Sam spends most of his time avoiding responsibility and consequences.

Lily is a bird witch. Her hobbies include experimenting with progressively more dangerous spells, quilting, and annoying Sam. She pretends to be a proper young lady to hide her propensity for stomping around the woods and biting ankles.

Cale is a young lad who can turn into a dog. He was raised in the nearby woods by his adoptive hermit father, Obadiah. Cale is pure of heart, but not very smart.

Ezekiel is a man who probably died, but he got better. He has no memory of his past identity, so Sam gave him his name. Ezekiel can see ghosts and other entities, which he does not enjoy. He tends to have custody of the gang’s brain cell.

Other characters include:

Beau, who belongs to @wyrmzier​. Beau is a dreamwalker who visits Ezekiel and Sam. He is so beautiful I looked at him and started crying.

Theo, a man of many hats. He’s the town doctor, pastor, and a cleric of the Order. Sam, Cale, and Ezekiel all end up living in his house.

Joe and Tace, a hunter and his wife. Joe covers for social anxiety with riddles. Tace has soft mom energy. 

Pen and Izzy, hunters who live in Swich. Pen is a huge pretentious nerd. Izzy is selectively mute and constantly angry.

Sandy, a wandering hunter. She has abs. Her head is filled with warm air and love.

Heather, a former Operator.

Obadiah, Cale’s adoptive dad and an Order crusader.

This trio’s shenanigans gets tagged with Sleepless City.

Mick, a hunter who lives in Boston. He likes trains. 

Mick has exactly two friends: Vivian and Pat. 

And in the future:

Tace and Joe have a daughter named Joan.

Aliza is Sam and Beau’s adorable daughter. Ezekiel aka. Zeke Jr. and Ezriel aka. Ezzy are Sam and Beau’s twins.

Heather and Ezekiel’s children are Constance, Samuel, and Eli.

Talia is Mick and Vivian’s nightmare child.

The next generation kids have a new tag, Beacon Station.

This is Eden and their parents. Eden might be an an antagonist.

Ariel Baptiste, her crew and her keeper Wash; and her nemesis Teutho; also show up sometimes. Their tag is Hunters of the Caribbean.

FAQ

What and How

Town of Puddle is heavily inspired by Over the Garden Wall, Bloodborne, Mushishi, Evangelion, and Diablo III. It is where I put all my favorite tropes, like monsters and cool coats. 

Who

Mostly myself and @wyrmzier who has contributed some great characters and ideas (master post here).

What’s the Order

An ancient organization dedicated to fighting monsters and drawing power from an unknowable entity. Not all monster hunters are members of the Order, but all the ones with gold eyes are.

What’s a hunter

As far as we can tell, human. But they have special eyes, magic, and immunity to certain things. Sometimes they get big and scary.

Can I make a character, etc. for this ‘verse

YES I love you and please send me a link or tag me so I can put them on my fridge

Can I ask a question

Sure thing. I will happily ramble at you. If the answer is spoilery I will tag it with spoilers. 

If you want to learn even more, check out these worldbuilding posts:

Dreamwalking (by @wyrmzier​)

Operators

Witches

Werecreatures

Elves

Keepers

The Order

Vampires

The Orrery

The Clock

Hunter corruption

Oh god there’s seven of them

Angels

Demons

The Choir Room

Swich

Siphonophore vampires

Other links:

I have pronouns, heights, etc. on this post.

We have a Discord server now, enter at your own risk!

All worldbuilding, characters, and plot is subject to change. And if you have ideas or thoughts, I’d love to hear them!

[best-science-dad-tony]

Are you all still active? And do you accept oc rp accounts or only canon based ones?

((Oh boy.

So here’s the thing...I’m probably not going to give these blogs quite the attention I did in the beginning, and I should explain why because you all deserve that.

At first, I didn’t think these things would go anywhere. I figured they’d be fun to play around with, banter, get some jokes in and see a few likes, maybe a reblog or two. But then they started gaining traction, and before I knew it, people were invested in my silly little accounts.

I wrote down a quick sketch of a plot and some ground rules for myself, rules that I intended to follow. I essentially wrote a post-Endgame story before Endgame after I saw Infinity War incorporating the elements I wanted to see in the next movie. At the time I was one person. No one was helping me. I knew I wanted to tell a story you all could participate in and enjoy, and to do that I thought it was best if I laid out a groundwork for myself on ways to do that. Things like resolving to answer every Ask, even if it was just to warn the person to stop what they were doing. To adopt every kid (at first that wasn’t on Anon but then I gave in). To give you guys Milestone rewards as thank yous, because even when I just hit fifty subscribers on Tony’s blog, I was ecstatic and appreciated you all so much, and felt like you deserved something so I could show you my gratitude. Unfortunately, before they went up...someone forced me to use one I wasn’t expecting. Literally right after I had made the rule for myself.

I told myself that if anyone found an Infinity Stone, it would be the one Tony had.

The Soul Stone.

I needed the Soul Stone for the plot to work, but I needed Tony to have a safety precaution around it too since Thanos was (is?) still alive. I told myself that if someone found out Tony had the Stone and wasn’t supposed to, he would have a way to protect it. So I had to use the solution I gave him: FRIDAY sending the Stone to an unknown planet with one of the Iron Man suits and promptly wiping her databanks of its location so Thanos or anyone else would be unable to find it. 

So someone found an Infinity Stone...and it was just...gone. Before I’d figured out how Tony would get it back.

My fellow Admins all know this. I can’t begin to tell you how many discussions I’ve had with them trying to write myself out of this hole. Usually, I’m pretty good at getting characters out of seemingly impossible situations...but I haven’t come up with anything that feels believable, that I feel like justifies the plot I have in mind or really respects the characters and who they are.

Normally I would have just gotten rid of the plot point of the Soul Stone being lost completely...but this isn’t an unfinished chapter in my Google Docs. It already happened. I can’t change it.

I don’t know if you guys have read Mercy by Stephen King or watched the movie, but it makes an excellent point that I strongly agree with:

Annie Wilkes : When I was growing up in Bakersfield, my favourite thing in the whole world was to go to the movies on Saturday afternoons for the Chapter Plays.

Paul Sheldon : [nodding]  Cliffhangers.

Annie Wilkes : [shouting]  I know that, Mr. Man! They also called them serials. I'm not stupid ya know... Anyway, my favourite was Rocketman, and once it was a no breaks chapter. The bad guy stuck him in a car on a mountain road and knocked him out and welded the door shut and tore out the brakes and started him to his death, and he woke up and tried to steer and tried to get out but the car went off a cliff before he could escape! And it crashed and burned and I was so upset and excited, and the next week, you better believe I was first in line. And they always start with the end of the last week. And there was Rocketman, trying to get out, and here comes the cliff, and just before the car went off the cliff, he jumped free! And all the kids cheered! But I didn't cheer. I stood right up and started shouting. This isn't what happened last week! Have you all got amnesia? They just cheated us! This isn't fair! HE DID'NT GET OUT OF THE COCK - A - DOODIE CAR!

Paul Sheldon : [long pause]  They always cheated like that in cl... chapter plays.

I don’t want to cheat you all. As arrogant as it might sound, I think I’m a better writer than that. And you all certainly deserve better than that.

When I went to see Endgame (in full Tony Stark cosplay, might I add), I hoped to find inspiration to continue. And let’s just say that ending killed a part of me and I’m still dealing with nightmares and panic attacks over it. My mom asked me if I wanted an Avengers cake for my 22nd birthday and I burst into tears. I just...I can’t handle it right now.

But I recently got my inspiration back for this plot. I remembered how much I loved my ideas, the little timeline I had laid out for myself. I remembered how much fun it was for Tony and Stephen to interact with their kids, for Thor and Loki to talk to Midgardians. I remembered how much fun it was to use obscure ships. And I want to do it. For those reasons, I want to come back to it. I want to see that plot through to the end of the line, whatever that may be.

So I’ve added some elements, and I’ve decided to go in with firmer rules than I had at the beginning, where I would let anyone tell Tony and Stephen “yeah, so...I’ve been stabbed, ‘sup with you guys lol”.

The catch is...it won’t be on these blogs.

It would mean going through everything on them and pretending it didn’t happen, which hardly seems fair, especially when so many people still like and reblog some of my more popular posts. It doesn’t seem fair to just throw all of that away.

Like I said, I don’t want to cheat you, and doing that feels like cheating to me.

So instead I’m starting over. I’m in the process of setting up new blogs, a new Discord server, and I’m working with my Admins to put these new blogs into place.

The other big twist is...I won’t be advertising them here.

I don’t want you all to think I don’t value and appreciate all your kindness and support.

But I don’t want you all to join those new blogs just because I made a joke on Bucky’s account (in this set of blogs) that you liked. I want you to join because you’re invested, because you enjoy the interactions, because you like my writing for what it is and not just because it’s me typing it. It’s the same reason I have a separate AO3 account I never share.

I feel proud when people come to these blogs and see Tony confronting Steve and find out I was writing both of them, not bouncing off a fellow Admin.

I hope I don’t sound ungrateful. I’m swear not. But I want the new blogs to earn their following just like these did. You all saw something in these blogs, whether it was a joke, some advice; something that meant something to you. Maybe you saw family. Maybe you saw a friend. I don’t know. But I sincerely hope that whatever it was, I earned that follow from you. That I earned those likes and reblogs of my own volition.

All I ask of you is if you want to see where these new blogs will go, if you want to follow them, if you find them, please, don’t spoil what will happen for any newcomers who join the ranks. Certain plotpoints will carry over. I want any new fans to be as invested and surprised as you were.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you where the plot moved if you can’t find it and you want to know the big picture. Maybe you’ll just unfollow me or ignore the fact that I’m working on something else.

But I’m not going to just up and abandon these blogs. For a long time, they meant something to me, and at least to some of you. They’ll stay up, and I’ll answer your asks and engage with you. I can’t speak for the other Admins. But with me, you’ll always have someone to message, even if I take forever. But no more nitty-gritty plot. We’ll say Thanos got tired of holding Quill prisoner and fucked off somewhere. These blogs are now just for lighthearted family fun.

This is a long-winded rant to say that yes, I am still active in some ways, and I’m not in others.

As for OC accounts, they have always been welcome, but they don’t get put on the Masterlist or get OC-centric plots. Just be sure to follow certain rules- like Tony having no biological children.

I’m sorry for the rant.

TL;DR: I’m making new blogs to write this plot as I originally intended, but these will stay up and you can message them (at least mine). Also, OCs are cool and always welcome. ~Admin Chara))

[aroworlds]

Aro-Spec Artist Profile: Alex

Today I have the delight of introducing Alex, better known to aro-spec Tumblr as @arotaro and @mutant-jojos!

Alex is a bisexual, half-Puerto Rican multi-disciplinary aromantic artist and creative with severe ADHD. You’ll find her prolific fanworks on AO3 as EmeraldTrash666, writing primarily for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure fandom. Her bold, colourful art for the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hetalia, Pokemon and Vocaloid fandoms is also available on Redbubble under the name StellaHagane.

She writes, she creates digital art and she dabbles in music, sewing and fashion design, single-handedly proving that there’s no such thing as too much creative awesome for any one aromantic!

With us Alex talks about finding the word aro, the power of fandom and creative fanworks, her love of aro Jotaro, the challenges of creating with ADHD, the struggles of being an aro gen writer in fandom and the importance of expressing our aro headcanons. Everything she says is absolutely on point, so please let’s give her all our love, encouragement, gratitude, kudos and follows for taking the time to explore what it is to be aromantic and creative.

Can you share with us your story in being aro-spec?

I guess in some ways my “story” starts out pretty typical. Got older, kept waiting for my First Crush™, never got it, started worrying and trying to force myself to develop crushes. I actually was in a relationship with another girl on a forum I was part of as a teenager, but eventually I realized that I didn’t really like her romantically, and the relationship started to become really unpleasant for me. I eventually felt so miserable that I didn’t even want to talk at her at all, even though we were close friends, but I didn’t want to break up with her - partly because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, partly because we were everyone’s “OTP” and I didn’t want my friends to hate me for ruining that. But eventually I did break up with her, and I’m happy to say she took it with grace and we’re still close friends today! (She’s ace and a great writer/artist herself, too!)

I was part of a very nice LGBTQ+ group as a teenager, but I could never figure out my identity. I felt really ashamed and alone. Whenever I brought up how messed up I felt because I’d never had a crush on anyone, everyone was like, “Oh, sounds like you must be asexual!”, but I knew I wasn’t, and that was the worst part. Even though I knew aromanticism was a thing, nobody ever talked about it. It was only ever in the context of aroaces, so I didn’t know I was aro. I thought I must have had some sort of mental illness or something, but certainly not a legitimate orientation, nothing to be proud of like everyone else.

During that time, I found myself connecting on a deep emotional level to characters like Alphonse Elric, Fujiwara no Sai, the X-Men in general (although I’ve been an X-Men fan since I was literally a baby), basically anyone who was somehow “different” from the rest of humanity, even though I never understood why, since I was a fairly privileged kid who had never experienced much bullying or anything. Weirdly enough, it was Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure that helped me realize I was aro and come to terms with it; I saw an interview with Hirohiko Araki, the author of JJBA, where he was asked what type of girls Jotaro Kujo likes, and replied that he didn’t think Jotaro liked girls. The obvious interpretation would be that Jotaro’s gay, but somehow, one way or another, I decided to go with the idea that Jotaro’s aromantic. Jotaro also happened to be a character I really related to for reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, so around the time I was 18 I put two and two together and was like ... oh shit…

Please click keep reading to continue Alex’s story!

Can you share with us the story behind your creativity?

I’ve always been weird in the way I’m very creative, but tend to kinda bounce around from hobby to hobby. Other people draw, or write, or sing, while I draw for a month, and then write for a month and sew for a week and play video games for a week, and then I draw some more, and then I try out something completely new, and then I write again. I think it must be an ADHD thing, idk. In any case, I’ve just always been really passionate about making stuff, whatever that stuff happens to be.

I’ve also always been very much fandom-oriented. Ever since I was a toddler, I used to dictate fanfiction to my mom (back then it usually involved Winnie the Pooh, the Powerpuff Girls, Godzilla, and my dog). I mostly draw fanart. I find that I’m not really capable of writing original stories, but I’m great at getting fanfics in character, and I love writing them. I love taking stories I already love and reinterpreting them, seeing what it would be like if the characters were put into different situations, etc.

Because of my ADHD, I really struggle with actually finishing things. I try really really hard, I really do, and I’ve been trying to push myself even harder these past few years. I’ve made progress, but it’s still extremely difficult, so I’m very sorry for all the projects I’ve abandoned over the years. Sorry I still haven’t finished the fic that was supposed to be done in early March. I’m trying, really. I promise I’m working on the next chapter of BLaD, too.

Are there any particular ways your aro-spec experience is expressed in your art?

Of course, pretty much everything I write is gen. Even if I include romantic relationships in my fics, I never write about romance, just stories which also happen to include some characters who might be dating someone. And obviously I always write Jotaro as aro! That’s really important to me. No matter which AU I’m writing, he’s always aro. (And autistic, but that’s off topic.)

I’m also not really into shipping because of my romance repulsion, but I ship Joseph Joestar and Caesar Zeppeli. The thing is … I’ve always viewed it as a unique relationship, sort of difficult to define as being strictly romantic or platonic or sexual, just kind of their own thing that defies words. That’s how I’ve always written it. I had the sudden realization recently that this strange view on the only ship I really actually like (at the moment, anyway) is probably due to my being aro, lmao.

What challenges do you face as an aro-spec artist?

People don’t read gen fics, and people aren’t interested in aro stories. That’s just the way it is. I do have some dedicated readers, whom I love deeply, but in general… I could post something with a deep plot, something funny and dramatic and witty and touching, something I poured my heart and soul into for months, and it’ll get very few hits/comments/kudos, while someone else could post the same generic 2,000-word romance fic everyone’s seen a dozen times over, with no editing or anything, and get twice the amount of traffic my fics do in half the time. It’s really crushing.

How do you connect to the aro-spec and a-spec communities as an aro-spec person?

I dunno… The aro community feels so small. Online, I have a small circle of aro mutuals who all kind of vent collectively, and I’m part of Arocalypse and a few aro/aspec Discord servers, but I still feel like there isn’t really much of a larger community to be part of in the same way that there is for other orientations. Offline, I’ve never met another aro, or even anyone who actually knows what aromanticism is prior to me explaining it to them.

I also don’t feel like there’s a very unified “aspec community”. As an allo aro, I feel very rejected by the ace community - not to say that I feel like I should be part of the ace community, since I’m not ace, but I feel like they throw aros under the bus a lot. I mean, we’ve all seen the “asexuals can feel love, just like anybody else! … oh, except for aroaces, I guess. But the rest of us are normal, so you should accept us!” rhetoric. Both within and outside the aspec communities, aros are rarely treated with the same priority as aces, even though we’re arguably in a much more difficult position than your average allo ace.

That being said, I’m glad there is an aro community at all. I don’t know where I’d be now if I were still questioning. Probably not in a very good place.

How do you connect to your creative community as an aro-spec person?

As I mentioned, there’s a general lack of interest in gen fics or sympathy for romance-repulsed people in general. It’s really difficult being romance repulsed in fandom spaces, because nobody cares about anything other than ships. There are very few gen fics, and even less that are a decent length, not abandoned, or cater to my specific interests, so I have to write my own. I don’t often have anything good to read; most of the big fics, the ones with cool plots and long word counts and ongoing updates, are ship fics. If I’m lucky, maybe two gen fics will be posted in one week, and maybe one of them will be longer than a few thousand words. Maybe one might even have my favorite characters. But usually genfics are few and far between, and kind of random in terms of what you’ll get. Sometimes I get so bored that I read ship fics anyway, and then I always wind up feeling really awful afterwards.

I’ve written, over the course of the past two years alone, over 20 gen fics. But whenever I vent that sometimes I’d like to actually get to read something, I always get someone telling me, “Well if you want gen fics, write some yourself! You have to make the change! You can’t demand people write stuff for you!” And of course, at the same time it’s totally acceptable to request ship fics from your favorite author, and if you complain that there aren’t enough fics for your rarepair, it’s seen as relatable and totally valid.

Fandom is just … really, really amatonormative, tbh. I hate it. I’m trying to make a difference (I did organize Gen Jojo Week along with my friend Rachel last year, and hopefully will again this year), but there’s only so much I can do.

How can the aro-spec community best help you as a creative?

Aside from reblogging my art and promoting my fics? Talk about stuff. Talk about aro stuff in fandom. Seriously! I know it seems obvious that aro people would like aro headcanons and gen fics and all that, but we need to talk about them more. Nobody outside the community gives enough of a shit about us to have aro headcanons, so let’s get them popular. Talk about your favorite aro headcanons. Talk about your favorite gen fics. Talk about how such-and-such character is totally aro; talk about how excited you are to see aro characters in fics. My dream is for aro headcanons to become just as common and popular as any other type of headcanon.

Can you share with us something about your current project?

This is old news to most of the people who already know me, but my current big project that I’ve been working on for several years now is Between Life and Death, a drama/horror/supernatural JJBA fic.

(WARNING: PHANTOM BLOOD AND STARDUST CRUSADERS SPOILERS BELOW.)

The plot of the fic is that Dio wins at the end of Stardust Crusaders, and after realizing that he has no hobbies other than harassing the Joestars, he decides to bring Jonathan back by sticking his head (which… we’ll just assume Dio preserved for plot purposes) onto Jotaro’s body. Obviously, Jonathan is NOT happy with this arrangement, but it also turns out that Jotaro’s still alive, just not in control of his body. He can still use his stand, so he essentially uses Star Platinum as a sort of proxy for interacting with the environment around him, even though he only comes out when Jonathan’s alone since he doesn’t want Dio to know he’s alive.

Basically, it’s the story of a depressed vampire and a traumatized ghost. It’s a very introspective fic; most of the story consists of conflicts between Dio and Jonathan, and Jonathan and Jotaro struggling to come to terms with their new existences - Jonathan being unable to reconcile vampirism with his personal morals, and Jotaro having one hell of an identity crisis while also mourning the deaths of his friends and family. The plot is picking up, though, and there is an end goal in mind, as well as an eventual sequel!

As for where the story-in-progress is at right now … well, the next “stage” of the plot is hamon training for Kakyoin and Avdol, which will be fun. This chapter also includes several dream sequences, including an extended appearance by Mary Joestar (Jonathan’s mom), and a very serious and dark scene which I almost ruined by having dream!Will Zeppeli refer to Jonathan as his padawan. Yeah.

Have you any forthcoming works we should look forward to?

As mentioned, I’m working on chapter 9 of Between Life and Death! And working on and off on some stuff for the mutants AU. Most recently, on a whim I rewrote the lyrics to Handbeat Clocktower by MOTHY to be about Jonathan Joestar. Somehow this went far enough that I’m making an actual UTAU rendition of this “parody”, and hopefully it’ll be done sometime in the next few weeks. I’m really having fun with it and I hope people like it!

[cheylouwho]

South Park: The affect of Abuse and ACEs on Behavior

One thing that’s been a hot topic in the SP fandom as of late is the discussion of how the behavior (both past and present) of the child characters are affected by the experiences we’ve seen/heard about in canon. Today we’re going to talk a little about three of the most damning cases; Cartman, Tweek and Butters.

Disclaimer 1: This analysis will contain several mentions of childhood trauma such as abuse, neglect and sexual relations. Please be mindful that you have been warned.

Disclaimer 2: This is for the sake of analysis and application of knowledge that I (and those in the SP analysis discord) have. We are in no way professionals. I am only a preschool teacher so my knowledge in the field of abuse and neglect is limited to what I’ve been taught and what I have witnessed/experienced. Please take the speculation with a grain of salt… maybe even the whole shaker. Just dump it in your mouth and enjoy almost 4,000 words of fully sourced “its not that deep, fam”.

Preface: What We Know about Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs)

Before we can really dive into this whole thing, we need to discuss ACEs. These are, to put it simply, traumatic events that occur during childhood that can have lasting effects on a person’s social/emotional, cognitive and even physical development well into adulthood. They’re mostly used for identifying children/people at risk and for research. It’s pretty interesting how that’s done, so I implore you to research more if you’re curious. These experiences can include:

Physical abuse

Sexual abuse

Emotional abuse

Physical neglect

Emotional neglect

Intimate partner violence

Mother treated violently

Substance misuse within household

Household mental illness

Parental separation or divorce

Incarcerated household member

(Source)

Given we’re talking about Cartman, Butters and Tweek, I think you can see why I bring this up. Taking a look at this list and the canon evidence we have in show, it’s easy to say that they’ve all experienced some of these traumas. Two more important things from the source article should also be noted for the sake of this analysis:

ACEs cluster. Almost 40% of the Kaiser sample reported two or more ACEs and 12.5% experienced four or more. Because ACEs cluster, many subsequent studies now look at the cumulative effects of ACEs rather than the individual effects of each.

ACEs have a dose-response relationship with many health problems. As researchers followed participants over time, they discovered that a person’s cumulative ACEs score has a strong, graded relationship to numerous health, social, and behavioral problems throughout their lifespan, including substance use disorders.

“Chey, what the fuck are you on about? This doesn’t make sense!” you might be saying. To truly understand how these ACEs apply to these three kids and how they affect their behavior, let’s take a look at them on a case by case basis.

Cartman’s Case

Eric Cartman is probably the most interesting child in terms of applying the ACEs checklist, as well as other knowledge about abuse and neglect affects on children. We know, from canon, that Cartman lives with his single mother. He’s a low-income family. His mother has been/may still be a sex worker. He’s is very inclined to violence and seems obsessed with sexual topics. It’s very interesting to note that towards the beginning of the series, while evidences were present, Cartman was a lot more innocent. As the show went on and some of these ACE experiences actually happened in building canon, it’s worn on him and shaped him in real time into the character we know today.

ACE 1: Sexual Abuse. It’s been strongly implied that Cartman has been sexually abused.Here is a not-so-short list of examples from the fanon wiki (source). It’s long winded and detailed, so here are a few notable points (as well as some that I’ve added myself).

Engaged in inappropriate/sexual behavior for his age, such as “touching wieners” with one of his cousins (le petit tourette), giving handjobs (Fat Butt and Pancake Head), insisting on measuring penises of his classmates (TMI), putting Butters’ penis in his mouth (Cartman Sucks)

Has been sexually abused by his mother/because of his mother (An Elephant Makes Love to a Pig)

Has been abused by several adult men ON SCREEN (The Simpsons Already Did It, Cripple Fight, Cartman Joins NAMBLA, AWESOM-O, The Return of Chef, It’s A Jersey Thing)

There’s also the strong point that Cartman has come to associate sex/love as something undesired, humiliating or painful. Again, the wiki wonderfully spells these out, but I’ll summarize. Cartman constantly treats any form of sexual or romantic relations as rape and assault. One example is in the Coon and Friends trilogy, he believes a woman having a consensual relationship with a man in the park is being “raped” and needs to be saved. Another example is his expressed sadness at the New Kid’s “dad fucked your mom” backstory in FBW. Another one that is not often touched upon in his reaction to Tweek and Craig’s fight in Tweek X Craig, in which he exclaims wholeheartedly that the two of them getting into an alteration is “sex” and seems intrigued to watch what’s going to happen. He also uses sex as a form of humiliation. I’m sure this is common knowledge at this point but his infatuation with making Kyle suck his balls in Imaginationland but also in his culmination of Butters’ photographical humiliation (AKA, sticking his penis in his mouth).

It’s not talked about on the ACEs website, but children who are sexually abused are likely to exhibit disdain (but interest) in sexual relations and acting sexually mature for their age.

ACE 2 and 3: Emotional abuse and neglect. Now, before I start this, you’re probably going to say, “BUT CHEY! Liane loves and dotes on Cartman! That’s why he’s spoiled!” Boy, do I hear you, but I’m going to explain myself. While Liane does spoil Cartman to hell and back, I’d like to argue that it’s empty. Liane may often tell Cartman she loves him, she also uses tactics such as bribery (food and other things Cartman likes), neglect (Cartman has said in canon, and she’s admitted herself, to being too busy to deal with him due to being a single parent), and also exposes him to things he should not be exposed to (sex, drugs). She treats him like a friend or a companion rather than her son (Tsst) which allows Cartman to have free reign. But free reign is not always out of love and care. I’d like to argue a lot of Cartman’s power is from lack of parenting and involvement in his life.I’m sorry if this part isn’t phrased too well; I had a hard time articulating it.

This may also be why Cartman has such a mixed relationship with his mother. He’s fed the idea that things are okay and great, that nothing is wrong, and he literally eats it up. He’s not outwardly talkative about what goes on at home, and when he is, he seems to regret it immediately. His disdain for his mom may not be purely “selfish greedy child”, but completely justified “abused child”. As phrased wonderfully by one of our server members, “that’s why he calls her a bitch and all those kinds of things yet still protecting her whenever they try to rip on Liane. Because that’s the kind of love he’s used to.”

Furthermore, consider the situation around Cartman’s birth. Liane was young, drunk and the town “slut” (their words, not mine). Cartman’s father’s identity had to be hidden and there’s no doubt that took a tole on her. I’d imagine being a young, single mother is not the path she wanted for herself. I tend to think of it as a cycle- Liane doesn’t want to deal with her child due to his behavior so she checks out of the situation, actually making Cartman’s behavior worse and so on and so on. Another possibly related scene could be in “Cartman’s Mom Is A Dirty Slut”, when she still outwardly seeks an abortion for her 8 year old son.

On a slightly unrelated note, this may also be one of the reasons for Cartman’s infatuation with Kyle. He seems to mistake the traits of abuse/neglect (anger, fighting, etc) as love due to how his mother treats him. This is why he thinks Kyle enjoys his company/likes him as a friend despite how much Kyle pushes back.

Other likely ACES: Witnessing intimate partner violence (his mother is a sex worker and he’s claimed to have been in the room during these acts), mother treated violently (FBW’s little Liane arc gives me bad vibes), substance abuse within household (I forget which episodes specifically but Liane’s done drugs), parent separation or divorce (absent father figure).

Cartman’s Conclusion:

Cartman has a grand total of SEVEN potential ACEs. The reason why I started those two additional facts at the start of this is because they are culminating (several often pop up and are related to each other) and affect behavior and relationships. Cartman’s behavior, while obnoxious and impulsive at best and downright despicable at worst, can be somewhat explained by the experiences he’s faced. Abuse, neglect and sexual assault have led him to search for forms of power and control in his life, whether that be over himself, his mother or his friends. His views of the world are shaped by what he’s seen and felt. Unlike Tweek, however, he doesn’t have much of a support system, and with the “sugarcoating” under the guise of love and care, he’s less likely to get the help he needs. His risks for childhood and subsequently adulthood are very high.

Butters’ Case

Butter’s is your stereotypical abused child in terms of his behavior and coping mechanisms. I believe that even casual show-watchers would agree that he’s in some deep shit. Unlike Cartman who is a lot more nuanced about displaying what he’s experienced, Butters is naive and innocent and resilient. He easily follows what others (CARTMAN) ask of him. He assumes a more submissive role in his life, working hard to make others happy and put them first to avoid trouble. He’s an easy target for bullying and being humiliated or used. He says things out loud without noticing their implications to what has happened to him.

Unlike Liane who covers her (probably unintentional) neglect with the guise of love, he has no such outward statements from either parent. The closest we get is “this is for your own good”, but there is no loving undertone, it’s purely corporeal.  Their abuse is right in his face; it’s physical, it’s mental, it’s terrible. Steven Stotch is the primary abuser, and while Linda has done her fair share of harm, she’s generally more passive. She even states in Grounded Vindaloop that she “lets [Steven] handle the grounding”. Steven Stotch, as of FBW, is also a victim of abuse, showing that he’s perpetrating it in a cycle (you’ll notice this theme a few times in this little essay).

It’s clear as of season 20 that the effects of constant abuse have finally worn on Butters, due to his angry outbursts and sudden shift in attitude (if you want to look at it from a character standpoint and not as lazy writing cough cough). He’s hit a breaking point in what he can take, and the more he’s been exposed to his ACEs (like Cartman’s case) the more behaviorally challenged he’s become.

Another aspect to consider is his relationship with Cartman. Both share similar ACEs, but cope with them in different ways. Cartman chooses to be a controller to earn back what he’s lost, while Butters is more suited to take a backseat and follow. This is why they, despite having a very dysfunctional friendship, stick together. It may appear that Cartman is the only one benefiting, but I believe it’s more mutualistic based on their respective coping mechanisms.

ACE 1: Physical Abuse. Butters has been shown to be physically abused time and time again by Steven. He’s been hit, talked about being hit, and the biggest piece of evidence that scares the shit out of me personally is that Steven pulled off his belt and prepared to hit Butters in front of his classmates in Grounded Vindaloop. Corporal punishment has been shown time and time again to be detrimental to children’s psyc, which aligns given how Butters acts.

ACE 2: Sexual Abuse. Butters has mentioned in The Return Of Chef that he has been sexually abused by his uncle, which does not surprise me in the slightest. Butters, unlike Cartman, goes the total opposite direction of how to cope with this sort of experience; he’s blissfully unaware of what has happened and rather than let it consume him (ex. cartman) he brushes it off as no big deal. Whether this means he is truly unaware of the connotations of what was done to him or if he’s purposely repressing it is unclear, but the evidence is there that it did happen.

ACE 3 and 4: Emotional Abuse and Neglect. This one is abundant in examples. Steven appears to play a lot of mind games with Butters, whether it’s demanding he stop having nightmares (The Death of Eric Cartman), getting in trouble for looking a certain way (How To Eat With Your Butt and The List), or simply for being bullied. They constantly ground him for things that he has no control over, simple mistakes or things that he was not even involved in. I believe that Steven, similar to Cartman, takes the helplessness from childhood abuse and hurts Butters in order to feel in control of himself.

Other Possible ACEs: Household mental illness could be argued as one of the ACEs Butters experiences, although not officially confirmed in canon. I do believe that Linda has some form of mental illness due to her behavior in Butters Own Episode. Although not listed in the article, Steven’s infidelity and the tension that causes on his and Linda’s marriage is also a potential ACE, especially given that Butters was directly exposed to that whole fiasco.  

Butters’ Conclusion:

Butters’ innocence is likely a form of coping mechanism for what he’s encountered during his life. Constant physical and mental abuse have worn on him over the years, turning him more bitter and forcing him to act out. I believe this also can be accredited to his mental break in season 19’s “Safe Space”, as this is the big start of his downward spiral. Unlike Cartman, there is no cover-up for his abuse being simply that- abuse- so being able to divorce himself and his emotions will be easier for him if he were to receive support or help in some form.

Tweek’s Case

Tweek is an interesting case because while he does have emotional abuse, neglect and and forced substance abuse (coffee and/or meth addiction), he also has canon mental illness that exists outside of how he’s treated. The abuse and neglect of his parents only amplify the effects of said illness. I’ve had a selection of anons over time talk about his potential (though not confirmed) mental state, most agreeing it’s some form of panic disorder (the Tweaks claim it’s ADD, but this is really just a load of bullshit and we all know it). He is often exploited by his parents (ex. “Having a homosexual son is good for the business” in FBW) or outright lied to for the sake of business. They often brush off his worries or ignore him completely.

ACEs 1 and 2: Emotional Abuse and Neglect (EXPLOITATION). The Tweak family are no strangers to emotional abuse and neglect. Right from Tweek’s character introduction, we know something isn’t quite right. His parents feed him excessive coffee, which is later revealed to be laced with meth (did you know that meth increases body temperature, as well as caffeine overdose raising heart rate and induces anxiety? (X) Would you look at that evidence). They also frequently blackmail him into work through the threat of “selling him into slavery”.

His defining traits are usually watered down to “spaz”, and more recently, “homosexual”, hinting that his parents really don’t pay much attention to him to know much more than that. They either ignore or hardly acknowledge his fears and worries, leaving him to cope with anxiety and personal issues completely alone. He’s clearly unhappy and potentially aware of his shitty situation- in Tweek vs Craig, he slams his head against the table repeating that he “want[s] out” and that “you never help me”. In Tweek x Craig, his parents only seem to take interest in his developing relationship due to the rest of the town and their desire to look good. If you use this as anything to go off, most of their “parenting” is feeble attempts to keep up appearances.

In SOT, it’s strongly implied that Tweek is the one to usually pick up meth deliveries from Kenny’s house. This is another form of abuse, though I’m not sure if it’s exactly emotional, that he’s forced to endure. A ten year old child should not be exposed to those sort of environments, let alone be involved in the trade of drugs.

ACE 3: Substance Abuse in the Household. Whether it’s coffee, meth or other form of drugs, there’s something going on in the Tweek home that I am certain counts for this ACE. As stated in the preface, higher numbers of ACEs contribute to higher likelihoods of substance abuse- what if the child is already unintentionally abusing substances? He’s got coffee with METH INSIDE IT. I don’t think I need to go much further. There is also the possibility that with his misdiagnosis of ADD, Tweek may be provided access to other drugs for substance abuse. Meth is actually used as a way of treating ADD (X) and could be in reach for him. There’s also Amphetamine (X) which has noted side effects of "excessive grinding of the teeth,... profuse sweating,... and tics..." which could be related to his behavior. This is all purely speculation, however.

Tweek’s Conclusion:

Tweek’s struggle with mental illness is not helped by his parents frequence abuse and neglect. He’s often blackmailed into situations he doesn’t want to be in. Similar to Cartman, his forms of abuse are often sugarcoated as love, making it a little less obvious for him to pick up on. In contrast to Butters, however, he’s much less of a follower and can throw a punch when he needs to protect himself. He’s incredibly resilient and has managed to, despite early substance addiction and neglect, hold strong and even overcome massive obstacles. Of course, these are partly due to his newfound support from...

The Effect of Solid Support: Craig, Heidi, and Liane

Creek shipper or not, there is no denying that Craig has played a massive role in Tweek’s recovery. While Tweek appears to be very naturally resilient despite the odds stacked against him, the presence of someone who will actually listen to his problems and not brush them off is a huge step in the right direction. With Craig, there is a sense of trust and understanding as well as respect. He’s treated as more than a few buzzwords or free labor or any slew of hurtful remarks. His fears are able to be acknowledged and sorted though, whether it be Craig’s logical talk-throughs or someone to pat his back and say “that sucks and it’s okay” (Put It Down). Ever since the introduction of Craig as his boyfriend, we’ve seen some interesting steps in the right direction.

S21’s main theme of relationships drew a lot of interesting parallels between Creek and Heiman, namely the difference between a healthy relationship and an unhealthy relationship. Similar to Steven Stotch, as mentioned in Butters’ case, Cartman went from abused to abuser in his relationship with Heidi. However, this was not always the case.

In early S20, Heidi was in search of her own form of support after being abused by society, simply put. She was able to find this in Cartman, who was dealing with a similar situation at the time after being “murdered” by his friends. Her presence did arguably turn him around for awhile- he seemed much happier before his self-destructive tendencies and self-doubt came in full swing. The cycle was perpetrated- Heidi wasn’t what he needed, so he went from abused to abuser. Heidi could be argued to have turned into another Cartman because she faced a watered-down version of his interpretation of “love”, aka abuse.

Let’s consider another pivotal moment for Cartman: TSST. This one is such a telling episode. While Liane is the source of most of his issues, when she was able to step into her role as a parent and provide the structure and support Cartman needed, his entire personality turned around. It wasn’t until she began treating him like a friend or companion again that he slipped back into his old ways.

Between these two scenarios, I believe it shows that if the patience and care is taken when dealing with Cartman, there is the possibility of healing. Heidi failed because she too was equally vulnerable and not in the right headspace, ultimately harming both of them (this does not excuse how cartman treated and manipulated her, BTW). Liane failed because she fell back into her cycle instead of sticking with what she had built up.

Conclusion

In conclusion, despite sharing similar ACEs, all three children we’ve discussed have different forms of coping and managing their trauma. The abuse that Butters has faced is easier to “remove” from his life due to no emotional (love) being involved in corporal punishment; however, Tweek and Cartman’s abuse have longer lasting repercussions because they’ve accepted and adapted as “that’s just the way it is”. That’s not to say they’re beyond help; all three, if done soon like in Tweek’s case, can be used to heal.

I leave this post with a sort of “call to action”. While we are talking about purely fictional characters and situations that “aren’t that deep, fam”, there are actual children suffering from these kinds of experiences. If you are aware of them, or see the red flags, please don’t hesitate to get help or find someone who can. Nobody should be like Eric Cartman and display serious red flags but slip under the radar. Thank you very much for reading my long, LONG analysis.

Special thanks/credit to the south park analysis discord ( and @dumbthotticusplayer2) for helping brainstorm/discuss :)